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A blog for poetry, prose, and pop culture.

Saturday, March 23, 2013

Flash Fiction: Under a Dead Sun: Past Sins

Chapter 46:

Morgan's Winchester thundered as he barrelled towards the female rider. She had already mounted her horse and was spurring it towards the stalled stage. He glanced as he rode by, the huddled mass of undead tearing at the body of the downed rider, gore and viscera flinging madly about in the mixture of claws and fangs. He tried not to let the image root in his brain. Morgan shifted the reins to his teeth as he chambered new rounds into the rifle and angled his horse around the herd with his knees. He spurred the horse faster and rode hard.

He watched the female swing free from her saddle and open the door of the stage. She was in such a hurry she didn't see the monster coming up from behind her. Morgan smashed another creature with the butt of his rifle and drew a bead on the one bearing down on the female. She was pulling at someone inside the cabin, her back exposed. His rifle cracked, bucking hard into his shoulder and teh creatures head exploded in a shower of brains and pus. Morgan was impressed watching the woman spin around and snapping up her pistol incredibly fast. they locked eyes momentarily before Morgan fired again, catching another of the monsters as it rounded the back of the stage.

He drew his horse up and looked at the woman. She was shapely, almost poured into the tight leather chaps and shirt she was wearing, but looked comfortable with the feel of the pistol in her hand. She kept the gun pointed at him but he reined the horse about, putting his back to her, unconcerned.

"Best be quick ma'am. There's more of these bastards than I've got bullet's for. I also reckon you may have some business with that fellow who killed yer friend."

Morgan watched as more of the masses drew closer to them and fired two more shots, two more kills. Then he laughed to himself. Killing what was already dead. God damn.

"Listen mister, I don't know who the fuck you are or what the fuck your angle is. But if you help me get my father out of here, I'll make it worth your while. You help me get that sonuvabitch who killed my friends, and you can name your price."

Morgan looked back as she was pulling out an old man from the stage's cab. He could see the man's withered legs and the look on his face, grimacing in pain. He glanced back at the shambling masses heading towards them. he pulled out his Cavalry revolver and clocked the hammer.

"Well the we'd best make this quick if either of us want to live to cash in on those promises."

End of Line.

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