I Don’t Believe in Zombies

Lightning streaked in the night sky, illuminating the soaked mud of the cemetery grounds in a flash, then booming thunder followed. One lone man stood in the center of the field, surrounding by rows of tombstones and ornate mausoleums. One lone and frightened man, cold, soaked to the skin, and afraid.

The boom of thunder was followed by that of his shotgun. One of the approaching bodies fell.

Antonio shivered violently. This was insanity. He didn’t believe in ghosts. He didn’t believe in monsters. And zombies were definitely just something from the movies. But here he stood, the center in a circle of them, approaching reanimated corpses moaning with arms outstretched, shuffling toward him to feed.

Boom. Antonio pulled the trigger and the gun bucked in his arms and rammed his shoulder hard. The zombie’s head exploded into a pile of blood and bone as lighting flashed again. Thunder rumbled over the cemetery.

Chuck-chuck. Boom. Another fell, never to rise. An empty cartridge flew. Chuck-chuck. Boom. Another fell, its torso a gaping hole. Chuck-chuck. Boom. Blood. Chuck-chuck. Boom. Rotting intestines splattering everywhere, then the shuffling undead falling atop them. Antonio shivered.

There was only one left, off in the distance and obscured in the darkness. He could hear her groaning, calling out for his flesh. With shaking red hands Antonio lowered the gun and fished shells from his pocket and pushed them into the bottom of the 12-gauge.

He raised the weapon, finger on the trigger, ready to fire. He hesitated as he stared into approaching monster’s rotting face.

The face of his wife.

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