Zombie Tales

ztales: Maintainer's note

2009-03-04T20:07:50Z

Hey guys! It's been eons, sorry. We actually do have updates for zTales, but we wrote them on a laptop, which has something wrong with its power thingy (?) The guy who writes Michael understands these things. As soon as the laptop is fixed we'll shoot for updating zTales three times a week.

Sorry about this. Hope to start updating soon!

ztales @ 2008-09-29T08:07:00

2008-09-29T12:07:25Z

ztales: Sam: 6/16/08

2008-06-16T18:33:44Z

Between the intermittent cracking of the guns and the itchy blanket on hard asphalt, it surprised Sam that she got any sleep that night. It was good sleep, though, dark, dreamless, and quiet, and she felt surprisingly refreshed when gray light rose in the sky.

Morning was quiet, as the men ran amongst themselves cleaning and preparing to go, while the girls gathered their blankets and waited in line to load onto the trucks. Sam watched ammunition and food get distributed. She suddenly realized she was starving, and thirsty. She felt weak and dry.

"When do we eat?" she asked the nearest girl.

"When we have food," the girl replied.

Sam looked at the frowns on all the other girl's faces. Their dirty clothes and messy hair, and blood on their clothing. About half looked strong and tough. Others looked big and weak, or little and weak.

"Where did you all come from?" Sam asked.

The girl shrugged.

"Where did they come from?" Sam gestured at the men, loading rifles.

"I donno," the girl said. "Some town, I think."

"Was it the same town?"

"I donno. We don't ask."

"Why not?"

"Then we get left behind."

Sam was about to comment that that didn't seem so bad, but the men started putting them up on trucks. Sam, Jazmine, and five other girls were put on Olson's truck. It seemed he would be among the middle trucks today. Sam settled against the back window and clutched her backpack and the itchy blanket. Jazmine sat next to her.

The boy with the gun handed the girls frosted Pop-tarts. Eating all that sugar hurt Sam's teeth, but she ate anyway. The boy also had a bucket of water. Sam considered asked for some of the water, but the caravan drove off. They dumped the water on the border fires as they passed, and drove directly into the crowd of zombies. The world was a blaze of screams and gunfire, and it was all dark. Sam and Jazmine sat close to the middle again.

As they drove onto the road, Sam watched as some zombies retreated into the garage again.

Being left behind would be a death sentence, she realized. The zombies would give up on the trucks and go back for the unfortunate left-behinder. There would be too many to handle.

ztales: Sam: 6/12/08

2008-06-12T17:49:11Z

One of the other girls was willing to share her blanket with Jazmine, but none of them offered a blanket to Sam. In fact, a lot of them wouldn't look her in the eye. In a moment of helplessness, Sam told herself she was used to this; that had been what high school was like. She allowed herself to feel sad for a moment. Then she scolded herself, found Olson's truck, and found a blanket in the truck bed.

It certainly wasn't a blanket for sleeping in. It was a tough, thick material, meant for laying on the truck to prevent things from sliding around or poking into the truck. Still, it was a blanket, and it was warm.

She made a bed close to the other girls, although not too close. Her pillow was her backpack. It wasn't the most comfortable, but when she tucked her bare skin away from the blanket it almost felt like a real bed on a real mattress.

ztales: Michael: 6/11/08

2008-06-11T21:22:58Z

The ride was bouncy. The Humvee rattled all the damn time. Sergeant Little didn't like this one bit.

Sergeant Little held on. Corporal Jones was driving and the last of Little's men were in the back.

Sergeant Little was never again comfortable riding around in one of these. His first tour in Iraq ended with three men dying when the Humvee they were in hit an IED. Sergeant Little was the only person to survive in any meaningful way. Fernandez and James wouldn't be able to serve again and the others were no more.

No matter how bad Iraq was, and Little thought it was terrible, the current situation was worse. Over a week and those things took over everything. The Army quickly called them what they were, zombies.

Sergeant Little and his men were assigned to mobilize to a quarantine zone in Alexandria. They never made it there and soon they lost contact to anyone that could give them orders. One by one and careless mistake after careless mistake his men died. They tried to reach their loved ones but when they did they would find the home abandoned or worse. Abel and Rush couldn't take it after they saw what became of their sweethearts. They weren't the only two to end their own life.

The Humvee crested a hill. A mass of those damn things surrounded a barn. Sergeant Little wiped a handful of sweat off of his dark brow and squinted his eyes. He saw a white flag wave from a window near the top of the barn. A woman's scream followed.

"What do we do, Sir?" Jones asked.

Little thought about it. They spent most of their time trying to find their families and nothing good had come of that. Little knew his wife and kids had to be at the base in Fort Belvoir and if they weren't safe there they wouldn't be safe anywhere. It was like Iraq all over again, he couldn't think about anything but the job or he would start to crack and his men would follow suit.

The Humvee stopped. Little looked at the barn.

"We're the Army, what do you think our job is, Corporal?" Sergeant Little waved his finger forward. The Humvee had crushed a few of these things. He was sure they could take a few more.

Garcia, Fuentes, and Gordon were in the back. They readied themselves. They all knew they had a job and a purpose now. They couldn't think of themselves anymore, not until the job was done.

ztales: Sam: 6/5/08

2008-06-06T14:30:18Z

Sam watched Olson's figure fade into the darkness, then shrugged, took a bite of the chalky, goopy candy bar, and walked over to the other girls, who were all sitting around a nice big fire. They were burning a pile of firewood. They must chop the wood and carry it, she figured.

She sat and listened to them talk. It was difficult; they seemed to be speaking Spanglish. Jazmine was talking to them just fine, struggling for some Spanish word sometimes. They all giggled. The other girls had less issue with their English words.

Some of them were brushing their hair. Others were chewing sandwiches. Two of them were making the sandwiches; opening cans and dumping the contents between two slices of bread. That was a good way to make a sandwich.

Sam took another bite of her candy bar.

"¿Qué es eso?" "¿Qué tiene?" "¿Es que el chocolate?" "Es chocolate." "¿Cómo conseguir que el chocolate?"

Sam didn't know much Spanish, but she was willing to guess that they were interested in her chocolate. She wished she had learned some more Spanish before moving to Florida. Now that she thought about it, why didn't she?

"How did you get that chocolate?" one of the girls asked.

Sam shrugged. "Olson gave it to me."

She saw a girl hop up and run off into the darkness.

"Can I have a bite?" another girl asked.

"You can have the whole thing, I don't care," Sam held it out to her.

"Why her?" said another girl. "I want a bite, too."

"Go get your own chocolate." The girl had grabbed a hold of Sam's candy bar. Another girl snatched it from her hand. The first girl slapped her. The thief-girl kicked her shin and turned to the candy bar in her hand. The first girl shrieked and bounced away. Now she ran back at the girl, and another girl attacked to.

Sam jumped back. "What the heck?"

"What the fuck is going on here?"

All the girls jumped up now. A few boys were standing in the firelight. One of them was holding a club. Olson glared at them. There was a girl with them. She pointed at Sam and said, "There, she was the one, she had it."

Olson pointed at the girls fighting over the candy bar. "End that," he said. He walked over to Sam. "Did you eat your candy bar?"

"I gave it away," Sam said. "It tasted nasty. I hate candy bars."

He hit her in the stomach. Sam coughed and tasted bile. She wanted to fall on the ground, but made herself stand. She barely recognized that Olson was still talking.

"I would have hit you in the mouth," he was saying, "But we're going to a gas station tomorrow, and we need you to look nice. Don't make me hit you again."

ztales: Michael: 6/4/08

2008-06-04T21:18:04Z

We nearly lost this ztales to a thunderstorm. Thank goodness for the human memory. Braaains.

Stephanie woke up first. Her skin ached and breathing was difficult. Her bleery eyes looked around and she noticed someone was missing.

She shot up and looked around. She couldn't find Margot.

"Margot is missing," she said as she tried to shake Seth awake. One by one everyone woke.

No one spoke of her missing. Everyone assumed she wouldn't be the last.

Michael had a silent fear that she decided to jump into those things instead of starving to death. He kept that thought to himself but he knew the rest were thinking the same.

The radio was silent but they all kept hoping and praying they'd hear something. They knew it wouldn't amount to much good but maybe it'd work out, maybe.

Michael was hungry. His head was dizzy. Rashes were appearing on his face and body. They were in that hay loft for four days and no matter how long they remained the endless droning of the damned wouldn't ever stop nor could they ever get used to the endless stench of sweat, blood, feces, and worse.

The skies were grey. Each day they seemed to become darker as ash permeated the air. Off to the distance in the evening they could see a large fire as though the sun was about to crest a hill for the entire night. Michael assumed that the cities were on fire. This was another thought he dared not speak.

The radio was silent but they all kept hoping and praying they'd hear something. They knew it wouldn't amount to much good but maybe it'd work out, maybe.

Then they heard some buzzing and chirping from the radio. Then a man's voice. For once in a long while Michael smiled.

ztales: Sam: 6/2/08

2008-06-02T18:40:06Z

Jazmine and the gunner went to join the main group, but the driver held onto Sam's hand, and led her away. They stood alone in the open. Sam watched him, frowning. He smiled at her, so brightly it seemed to glow in the darkness. She wondered if he had had his teeth whitened.

"Smile, Curly Top," he said.

"Sam," she corrected him.

"Olson."

"Huh?"

"Olson. That's my name. And you're Sam?" His figure fidgeted in the darkness. Sam stepped back.

"Candy bar?" he said.

"What?"

A dark shape wiggled in the darkness. He was handing her a candy bar. She took it. It was warm, and felt gooie inside, and difficult to open. He took it back and opened it for her, and handed it to her again. The chocolate had all melted, leaving only the chalky brick inside. Sam hated candy bars, but she took a bite anyway, and said, "Mm," just to ease the situation.

"How old are you, Sam?"

"Nineteen."

"Good age."

"Yep."

"Got any diseases?"

"What?"

"Diseases. Diabetes or AIDS or something."

"No."

"Good," he gave her a smile. "Good."

"How about you?" Sam asked. "Do you have any diseases?"

His smile waved back and forth in the darkness. Sam took that as a no.

"And how old are you, Olson?"

"You just eat your candy bar, Sam," he said. "We'll take good care of you and your friend, don't you worry."

His dark shape moved, and Sam felt his hand touch her head. He touched some of her hair and fiddled with it. Sam grew still. She wondered if she should move, or say something. She wondered if she should smack him.

He let go. "Eat your candy bar," he said. "Then you can go sit with the other girls."

He walked away.

ztales: Michael: 5/30/08

2008-05-30T21:28:03Z

Two days passed. The pitchforks broke and that nearly caused Michael to snap.

Bucket broke one and Michael near broke Bucket. "What the fuck?" Michael's voice was beyond dry. Michael grabbed Bucket by the collar. "Fuck!" Michael was tired.

No one knew how close he was to throwing his best friend down to those things. Michael knew and that scared him. He fell asleep.

Bucket and Seth stayed up all night counting. They figured they took down at least 70 of those things. It didn't make a difference. The barn floor was covered with them and as far as they could see the outside was flooded with them all around the barn.

Margot wished she was religious. She didn't have anything to turn to. Stephanie kept crying until there was nothing left to cry.

"Is this it?" She asked a huddled up Michael. "Is it?" Her voice got louder.

Michael stood up. "Yeah, it is. We either starve to death or we let those things get us. I'm not sure which is worse." Michael's face felt stretched and thin. His eyes were sunk in his face and his red hair was a mess of sticks, moisture, and knots.

"If we jump down maybe we can avoid them? You've done it before, Mike." Seth was trying to give some hope to a hopeless situation. Michael almost laughed but he didn't.

"Yeah, I guess we can try. I don't know." Michael kept looking around. There had to be an answer. Things couldn't end like this.

Another two days passed. Everyone was coughing up. The stench had long ago become unbearable.

That morning they found Margot missing.

ztales: Sam: 5/28/08

2008-05-28T18:46:45Z

The caravan of trucks took up both sides of the road. Sam's truck was on the side of the road that would usually have traffic going in the other direction. She watched signs that she could read fade off into the distance, still readable. After a few signs the sky was too dark, and the signs were blackness in the dark night. The zombie mass had become an odd moving black wave behind them, still making their sounds that still sent a chill down Sam's spine, when she bothered to listen.

The only lights were the headlights of the truck. The men and boys in the trucks had stopped shooting. They couldn't see anymore.

Sam turned around to look ahead. She saw a normal town. There were tall buildings to the left. Some of them looked like they had windows and maybe some of them were concrete parking garages, but most of them were mysteries. To the right were shorter buildings.

They have to stop, Sam thought. That must be why they were in town. Where would they stop, though? They were in trucks, and it was night. Trucks could not climb to safety from the clumsy grasp of a zombie. If it were still day, they could find a place to park and climb someplace, but it was too late now.

One truck turned to a parking garage. The others followed. It was near-complete darkness in there, and noisy, with the screaming wheels of the moving tires on the asphalt. And the zombies were even louder.

There were more of them, too, ones that weren't following the truck brigade. The trucks simply ran them over, but they couldn't get all of them.

Jazmine screamed. Sam looked and saw her grasping the sides of the truck. She leaned over and pulled her away from the side of the truck. Jazmine hit her.

"Brady," said Sam.

"Sorry."

Sam pulled her backpack and her ax closer. She and Jazmine sat in the middle together, holding on to each other. It was harder to stay in place when you were in the middle of the truck. The driver executed three harsh turns at once, and they tumbled all over the place, laughing.

The drivers parked at the top level of the garage. Within moments she saw four figures dashing towards the entrance of the level. She watched as they moved in the darkness. Eventually they lit fires all across the ramp.

"Ahem."

Sam looked. Jazmine and the gunboy had already gotten down from the truck bed. The driver of the truck smiled his big white teeth at her, and held out his waiting hand.

ztales: Michael: 5/27/08

2008-05-27T21:12:36Z

"What the fuck are we going to do?" Bucket was screaming. His face was red from anger and redder from a rash.

Michael looked around. He didn't know what they could do. He just couldn't admit it to himself.

"We'll figure out something. Let's eat." Michael looked over and saw Seth shake his head. "What's wrong?" Michael was confused.

"We're out of food. There's nothing left." Seth was exhausted. His pale skin was ghostly white in contrast to the dark circles around his eyes.

Everyone was looking at Michael. Michael looked around for something that would help out. The hay loft was tiny and he couldn't believe everyone was up here and stayed here for days.

Then he saw it. Michael watched too much of the History Channel before this happened. He was always more than a little bit of a nerd. Hell, he'd even played more than his fair share of wargames. Two pitch forks stuck in upwards in the hay like Excalibur.

"We have some work, guys." Michael's stomach panged with hunger. He was upset that they couldn't save any food for him. Didn't they know he was asleep and would need to eat. Whatever, he thought, and just kept moving forward.

Always one step forward. Never stopping.

Michael grabbed one of the pitchforks and told Bucket to get the other.

"Seth, I'm going to need you to hold my ankles in case something goes wrong." Michael smiled. He went down onto his belly and was hanging over the loft by the smallest amount.

Michael's arms flashed up and down several times. It worked, the prongs went into one of those creature's heads and hit whatever it needed to hit. It fell down and stopped moving. There were so many but Michael didn't know what else he could do.

Again and again he came down on those things. As one felt another took its place. Never ending.

How could the whole work transform into these things so quickly? Wouldn't they be going to other survivors? Maybe we're all that's left? Michael's heart stopped with the thought.

For the first time Michael was scared. He caught his breath and the terror crept up on him. He didn't know if he could ever do enough.

He rolled over and gave the pitchfork to Seth. "You fucking do this." Michael was upset and his eyes would have been moist had there been anything left in his body to do so. Michael slumped against a wall and went to sleep.

No matter what they did it wouldn't matter.

ztales: Sam: 5/22/08

2008-05-22T15:05:55Z

Sam spent the rest of the day cramped in the corner of the truck, her axe firmly between her legs and her backpack under her arm. The other arm fought to keep the wind out of her face. The hair would hit her like a whip. She needed something to tie it down. She should have thought of that sooner. Soon the bangs would grow out, too, and there would be that stage where they would always be in her eyes, no matter what she did.

Jazmine was clearly more comfortable. She spread out in the corner of the truck she had claimed, sometimes pushing one of her braids out of her face. She tried talking to the boy with the gun a few times, and sometimes he would answer, but mostly Jazmine watched the scenery go by, smiling. She hated walking, Sam remembered.

The boy with the gun was most definitely a boy, and not a man. He couldn't be any more than fifteen. He crouched near the door of the truck bed, aiming and firing at the massing swarm of zombies behind the truck gang.

The other girls in the other trucks were quiet. Perhaps the roar of the wind had taught them to be so. None of them smiled or moved. That was odd. Even in the worst of circumstances, girls had always been able to smile at each other, and tell jokes and communicate by rolling their eyes. They were most certainly alive. They hit a bump in the road and they all moved to compensate and hold themselves down. None of them laughed afterwards, like Jazmine, or even smile sheepishly, like Sam.

The scenery was trees. After a while it was fields of Florida, water, tall grass, weirdly yellow with dark spots off in the distance. They hit a major highway. Sam began to see buildings and turns. Exit signs. One of them said "Boca Raton" on it. Sam's heart fluttered. Her cousins lived there. They could stop there.

Soon the signs said "Delray Beach" and later "West Palm Beach," and she knew they were too far gone. Later on the signs began reading "Orlando," and she knew they were really, really far. Two or three hours away from Boca Raton, if she recalled correctly.

The sun started setting.

The mob behind them showed no signs of thinning, although all the gunners had been shooting all day. The boy in their truck had eaten a sandwich in the middle of the day, but other than that had shown no signs of stopping. Sam wondered what would happen when they stopped for gas. Even more important, when would they eat? Her stomach was growling.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a red light blink. Turn signal. The whole truck gang turned onto an exit. The zombie hoard followed.

ztales: Michael: 5/21/08

2008-05-22T02:39:49Z

Michael slept for two days. He snored for a good deal of it. He was like a bear hibernating.

The noise of his snoring was drowned out by the moaning of those damned people.

The barn had been full of them for two days. They couldn't get up to the hay loft but neither could Bucket, Margot, Stephanie, Seth or Michael get down.

Michael woke up finally. His whole body ached in ways he never thought possible. His throat was dry and his head felt like it was both under water and being pounded by a hammer all at once. Michael was alive.

"Good morning!" Stephanie gave Michael a hug. She was always affectionate to him. Michael appreciated that.

Michael had to cough for a second. His throat was impossibly dry. "Thanks," Michael said. He smiled until he saw the expression on everyone elses' face. They were terrified and had been for days.

He finally got a sense of where he was. He looked down and saw that the entire barn was filled with those things.

"What's going on outside?" Michael croaked.

"They're out there, too," Seth said with dry-red eyes.

"What can we do?" Margot asked. Bucket was slumped in the corner with his head low. They waited on Michael to wake.

"How much food do we have left?" Michael's gears were starting. He'd figure out something. He had to.

Michael couldn't fail them. He wouldn't.

ztales: Sam: 5/15/08

2008-05-15T13:32:36Z

As the noise grew closer, Sam could pick the sounds apart; screams and shouts and hoots and barks, rattatattat, and the sound of combustion engines rumbling.

"People," said Jazmine.

They looked together. Pick-up trucks, at least half a dozen of them, traveling together. They took up both sides of the road that way. There were men and boys standing in the backs of three of them, taking aim and firing. Behind them, dozens of zombies, perhaps over a hundred, following, their arms raised, some of them falling. Sam could barely make out their low moan underneath all the noise the trucks were making.

"They're insane," said Sam. "We should run."

"No, we should hitch a ride."

"What? We can't ride with these people. They look dangerous."

"It's better than walking," Jazmine shrugged. She waved her arms and started shouting. "Hey! You guys! Over here!"

"They're headed right for us," Sam muttered, but Jazmine kept shouting. Sam bit her lip and fingered her ax. Their luck had been pretty good so far, all things considered. They weren't dead, at least.

The trucks stopped as one. The men inside were already looking. Sam looked over the contents of the trucks. A driver in each van. The passenger seats were filled with stuff, food and ammunition, mostly. Some random other guys held guns and sat in the bed of each truck. In a few other trucks were girls, sitting at least eight to a bed, just sitting and looking. One guy sat with each set of girls. Sam wondered if the girls had guns as well.

"Can we help you ladies?" said the one in the nearest truck. He had short dark hair and glasses.

"We need a ride," Jazmine said.

"Hop in," said the driver, and he turned to speak to another driver.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked.

The driver turned back to Sam, and he fixed her with a nice white smile. "Where are you going, curly top?"

"North."

"Then that's where we're headed." He shouted "Norte!" and everyone cheered.

One of the men in the back of his truck said, "You can go sit with the other girls, over there."

The driver said, "No, no, let Curly Top and the black girl sit in my truck, it's alright." He gave them another big white smile.

As they climbed into the truck, Sam hissed, "This is a really stupid idea."

ztales: Michael: 5/14/08

2008-05-15T00:49:28Z

Michael was running. He gripped the rifle on the inside of his arm while he pushed the two bicycles.

"Over here!" Stephanie yelled. Michael slowed for a second and looked around. He saw Stephanie and the rest of his friends.

A horde of those creatures were right behind him. No matter how fast he ran, Michael thought, there was no way to outrun them. Not all of them. Not ever.

Michael gained what would have been his second wind if he hadn't had gone through a dozen already. The cool air made his skin revolt as dehydration and exhaustion had taken any sort of moisture his body. Whereas miles ago Michael would have been too full of adrenaline to notice these things his body had now become tapped. There was nothing left in reserve.

One more step. Always one more step. Keep going.

Michael ran off the road onto a grassy slope.

"Stphadhrhghgh!" Michael croaked with what sounded like a puberty-stricken roar. His throat wouldn't work anymore.

"Faster! Hurry!" Seth was yelling. Michael saw the barn and ran towards it. If he could make it to the hay loft he would be okay. Everything would be okay.

The ravenous beasts that were behind him had lagged far. Others that were meandering near the barn saw him and converged. There was always more.

With a last bit of reserves he ran forward and made it to the hay loft. He scampered up as fast as he possibly could. He was safe and almost collapsed.

The barn was no surrounded. Day would break within hours. Michael didn't know what to do. He collapsed.

ztales: Maintainer: 3/27/08

2008-03-27T13:11:52Z

Sorry for the long delay between posts. We hope to start up ztales again May 1, 2008.

ztales: Sam: 1/17/08

2008-01-17T18:49:20Z

Note:We here at ztales work for a major university and an accounting firm, so around the time that school starts and when tax season picks up, updates slow down or stop for a while. We'll try to notify you when this happens, but sometimes we forget. Sorry.

"What do you think the world's coming to?"

"Zombies."

Sam kicked a pebble in the road and said, "No, for serious. The world. What'll it become?"

"Worse. I hate walking." Jazmine looked down at the sneakers they had given her back at the hospital. They were plump grayish running shoes, but even the best shoes hurt after a while.

"Maybe it'll be better," Sam said. "The world was going down anyway. Maybe Darwinism's taking effect. What do you think the new society'll be like?"

"Dead."

"Maybe it'll be a matriarchy," Sam said.

"Doubt it."

"That's what humans are supposed to be, originally. I read it in a book once. I forget which one." Actually it was the Cartoon History of the Universe, but Sam was about to go into a smarty-pants rant and didn't want to be discredited by using silly sources. "It was originally women who made society, who got men to farm and hunt for them, and men were pretty happy with that, until one day they realized that sex made babies and the babies were theirs, so they said everything else was, too, and women lost control then, because they controlled nothing but civilization."

Jazmine didn't say anything. She didn't look particularly interested, but at least she was trying to look polite about it.

"So yeah," Sam said. "Maybe women will start the next one, and we'll keep it, too."

"Women suck at surviving," Jazmine said. "We're probably the last women alive."

"Don't say that," Sam said. "You said it yourself, it's only in Florida. We'll leave Florida and catch a ride to Virginia and then everything'll be fine again."

"Then there won't be a new society, there will still be the old," Jazmine said.

"Yeah," Sam said. "Yeah."

They were quiet, until there was a roar behind them, that was getting louder and louder fast.

ztales: Sam: 1/3/07

2008-01-04T02:17:09Z

Sam didn't remember when they stopped or why, but she did remember her dreams that night. She was surrounded by human shapes, gray and red. She tried to get away, but her limbs kept breaking off. Something was coming for her, but she couldn't see it. She could hear it. Something big and noisy. The shapes were pressing in on her. She couldn't breathe anymore. She was pushing at them, trying to get away, but her limbs were breaking, snapping off. DOOM she heard DOOM DOOM DOOM DOOM DOOM. The walls were white and purple, throbbing veins. COME BACK TO US she heard. GO BACK GO BACK GO BACK DOOM DOOM DOOM DOOM DOOM

ztales: Sam: 1/2/08

2008-01-02T19:44:23Z

The beat of her feet on the ground reverberated clear through to her head. It was miraculous that the shoes she had borrowed from the hospital were on her feet, untied. Her heavy backpack smacked against her with every step. She had grabbed Jazmine by the arm as she ran, but she had let go somewhere along the way. She had no idea if Jazmine was still with her.

She ran. Her whole body hurt but she still ran up the bike path. She kept having to shove her glasses back up her sweaty nose and she had to take care not to hit herself with her ax. It was amazing how light that thing was now, even if her arms had cramped for days.

"Sam," Jazmine gasped, "Sam, we have to stop."

Sam stopped and looked around. She didn't see any obstructions, no zombies, nothing to cause them to stop. She turned and looked at Jazmine. Jazmine was barely breathing. She was hunched over, weak like. Except for the sweat and maybe the sting in her lungs, Sam barely felt anything. She supposed that was adrenaline.

"I can't run anymore," she said. "I'm so out of breath. Let's stop."

Sam looked around, but she didn't see any zombies, nor any of the boys neither. "We'll walk," she said. "It's not good to stop after a run like that. Come on."

They walked. Jazmine asked, "What do you think happened to the boys?"

"They'll be fine," Sam said. She wondered what Chewy was up to. If he was alive. If he would chase them. How he would chase them.

"You don't think they..."

"Nah, maybe."

"My mom did."

Sam stopped to stare at her. She wondered if she ought to say something. She opened her mouth, closed it.

"I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

Jazmine and Sam kept walking.

"Don't worry," said Sam. "We'll just keep an eye out, everything'll be cool."

"Right on, ax-girl," Jazmine said. "Thanks."

ztales: Sam: 12/31/07

2007-12-31T19:08:06Z

The Stick was screaming obscenities, bad things, and Sam was fumbling for her glasses. Where the hell were they those things were so necessary.

"Dave?" one of the boys was saying.

The Stick screamed.

"It's a zombies! Holy fuck!" another one said.

Even below the screams there was something awful, inhuman to be heard. Ripping, tearing, growling.

Sam found her glasses and shoved them on her face. She looked around. Monkeyface and Stella stood off to one side, gaping. Jazmine was holding her backpack in front of her face. Chewy was just watching the scene. Watching.

Sam picked up her axe, walked over to the zombie, and swung. The zombie fell back. She could see the blood glistening on its arms and face and neck and chest. Gross. The zombie roared. Sam swung for the neck, but missed, in the darkness and small moving target. Again. She hit the shoulder. The zombie jumped at her, but she butted it with the end of her axe. She killed it.

Chewy turned on a flashlight and aimed it at the Stick. His whole front was covered in blood, his face too. He was shaking, moaning, whining. Even in the little light you could see the purple of his veins.

"Oh fuck," said Monkeyface. "That was a zombie."

"What'd you think it was, the Tooth Fairy?" Sam snapped.

"My head," said the Stick. "My head."

"Somebody help him," Sam said.

"No, he's good as dead." Chewy was just staring at the Stick. "I'd say fifteen minutes."

"'Til he's a zombie? Zombies aren't real!" Monkeyface shouted.

"Look with your own two eyes," Stella said.

Sam started. "We're sitting ducks," she said. "We gotta move. They have trouble getting up, we should get to higher ground."

"No, we're staying put," said Chewy.

"Oh, God, my head," said the Stick.

"Well I'm moving," Sam said. "This is stupid, sitting here. What the hell, man, we're sitting in the woods like sitting ducks."

"You're staying here," said Chewy.

"The fuck," said Monkeyface. "The fuck."

"Calm down," Stella said. "I didn't know they attacked. You're making it worse."

"Where's my stomach?" asked the Stick.

"Shut up!" Jazmine screamed. "Shut up, everyone! I can't even think!"

Everyone looked at her. They heard another twig snap. Some leaves were being kicked. Another twig.

"Oh my God," said Monkeyface. "There's more."

"Run," said Sam.

ztales: Patrick

2007-12-26T04:35:25Z

Happy Christmas all!

For Christmas, New Years Eve and New Years Day we'll be running a short series detailing another character! Don't worry about Sam and Michael, well maybe you should worry a little, but this story will not interrupt theirs much at all. I'm almost done with Patrick's story and it should fit in those three postings.

Also, we've decided to do movie and book reviews! These won't interrupt the stories at all and we'll only post them on the weekends!

We hope everyone's had a wonderful Christmas!

Patrick liked September. It was always a pleasant month and this was no different. Patrick enjoyed the "sweater weather", as he'd call it, greatly.

Between moving into their new house in Cleveland and it being his birthday he was having a good month.

Until the dead started to attack.

They were lucky. His wife and two small children were unaffected when it happened. Listening to the radio he knew that he was far luckier than he deserved to be as most families had at least one member afflicted with the curse.

By time they got word of it the radio was exploding with directions to safe zones and directions on how to protect yourself.

Patrick discussed the issue with his wife Amy and they came to the conclusion that it'd be best to board up the house and wait it out.

"We won't know how contagious this thing is, hun." Patrick said. He took a deep breath. "The radio and television are probably overreacting. You know how they are. There's no sense in us sleeping on the floor of a gymnasium for a few weeks over nothing."

Patrick was older by a few years and had experienced much more about the world.

"You're right, Pat." Amy regarded her husband with a lot of respect. He knew everything, she thought. He could fix a car, fix up the house, do all the finances, and everything else. She tried at some of those things and didn't do so well as he.

"We should stay. It's probably nothing and there's no need to bother the kids about it." She gave him a big hug.

Patrick had lived through hurricanes before. He figured this would blow over like those big storms he experienced growing up in Florida.

"Hey hun, can you fill up the tubs full of water?" Patrick yelled.

"Sure thing!" Amy yelled back. They were hustling and bustling getting their house ready for what was to come.

There was no way anyone could be ready for what was to come.

Chance and Dexter were running about playing and wondering what was going on. Chance was in second grade and Dexter was in kindergarten. They didn't have school today and they couldn't have been happier.

The radio reported that everyone should get into a quarantine area soon. It also called for all emergency personnel to organize to help out the evacuation.

Patrick didn't pay it any mind.

ztales: Sam: 12/21/07

2007-12-21T19:45:44Z

Sam had always slept most comfortably on hard ground. At home in Virginia, and even in her apartment in Miami's fringe, she had always suffered from insomnia, so she had always tried her hardest to make her bed as comfortable as possible, to make the sleep come easier. Yet now, thinking about it, she had always slept most comfortably on the ground when they went camping, or on the floor when times were rough. Right now, lying on her back with her shoes as her pillow and no blanket to speak of, a pebble in the small of her back and a root beneath her left shoulder, Sam felt perfectly content to sleep.

She rolled over to lie on her stomach. She always woke up on her stomach. Sleeping on her stomach seemed like a good idea.

Click. That was Chewy's gun. Without her glasses, the world was a blurry mess of dark blue right now, but she knew right where he was.

"Lie down now," he said quietly.

"I am," she said. "I'm just rolling over."

She rolled onto her stomach. She supposed her neck might be straining, but she didn't feel it. She sighed, breathed deeply.

Click. That was Chewy's gun again.

"Lie down now," he said quietly.

I'm just breathing, she would have said, but someone else spoke first.

"I gotta piss," said The Stick. Then he said, "What, here?" He sighed and moved around in the campsite, and then she heard his pants unzip. Chewy was making him pee in the campsite.

Sam rolled over again so she was on her back. She slowly reached across her shoes, to her backpack. She had her axe sitting there next to it. She pulled it back and slid it over her body, and held the blade over her chest, to keep her safe. She closed her eyes and saw the image of her apartment door breaking, like she did every night. This familiarity would keep her safe.

Then she heard a twig snap, and the Stick started screaming bloody murder.

ztales: Michael: 12/20/07

2007-12-20T14:42:03Z

Editor's Note: This is a continuation of Tuesday's entry, which was submitted Date Out of Order. We suggest you read that entry before reading this one.

The two men were about to bind Stephanie and Seth when they heard a loud shout.

"My friends gave you a chance!" Stephanie looked and saw Michael holding a rifle. He was behind a car and had the rifle leveled at the man with the deep voice.

"Let them go or I'll fucking kill all of you!" Michael's voice sounded haggard and mean. There was no questioning his sincerity.

The man in charge looked scared. He took a step back. "Don't fucking move! I'll fucking kill you!" Michael yelled at him.

The deep voiced man looked around. He was older and heavy set. He was well dressed. Michael knew he had a lot to lose.

"This is your last chance, let my friends go!" Michael yelled.

Stephanie was shaking incontrollably now. Seth felt the need to yell at Michael to stop. He expected to be shot dead at any moment.

The man in charge spoke but Stephanie couldn't hear. She saw Bucket stand up. He was unbound and his blind fold was removed. He was pushed forward towards Stephanie and Seth.

The two men started to back away from Stephanie and Seth.

"Good! Now we're going to let my friends get back to wherever they're going." Michael's voice sounded hoarse. This dark day was getting darker as the sun was about to set.

Stephanie hugged Bucket tight. His face was bruised, bloodied, and busted but he managed a smile.

"Let's go," Seth said. "Michael knows what he's doing. He's getting us time. We need to get back to Margot and Christine."

They started walking towards the sunset. They crested a hill and saw that inexorable tide of flesh and teeth.

"Fuck, we need to get going fast." Seth was irritated. He was tired, thirsty, his feet were sore, and he felt as though he was going to collapse. He thought he was about to die. When he didn't all the blood ran out of his body and he couldn't keep himself upright. His body hunched over. His day wasn't over yet.

Those creatures saw them and were coming at them. Stephanie knew that they could outrun those foul beasts but it would still be hard. Up and down through the hilly offroad they went. The sun was setting where they needed to go so they didn't get lost. It took them an hour to get back.

Margot looked up. She ran forward and hugged Bucket. "Thank God!" She was delirious with her happiness. Her dark skin shimmered with sweat and tears off the dimming sunlight.

Bucket fell against a tree. He brought Stephanie down with him and cuddled. "Thank you guys so much. I thought I was going to die. I knew I was. The things they talked about, it was bad. Very bad." Bucket held Stephanie close.

"Some people have evil in their hearts." Stephanie said. Two days had gone by and these men became savages. How long until they weren't any better. She kept those thoughts to herself.

"What about Michael?" Seth said. "Where is he?"

"Well, we're not too far from the highway. If we keep someone on lookout I'm sure we'll find him when he comes by." Bucket said.

"Yeah, he saved us." Stephanie looked relieved and happy cuddled in Bucket's arms. Stephanie laughed. "He stared down like 6 of them. Just him alone!" She laughed.

Bucket and Seth joined in. The tension broke like stained glass. "He's fucking crazy!" Bucket smiled. His lips were busted but he was alive.

ztales: Sam: 12/19/07

2007-12-19T20:43:11Z

They ate canned corn, canned peaches, and a little bit of some squirrel Chewy had managed to kill. At first Sam and Jazmine refused to eat the squirrel, but the boys had teased them about it, and then Chewy said, "You might want to eat a little bit of that," so it was decided. It was tough, wet, and tasteless. Sam had never felt more guilty for eating something.

Afterwards she thought she would be able to crawl away from everyone else, and perhaps Jazmine would follow, and they could leave that way. She started to move away, and Jazmine followed her lead, but Chewy said, "Now where do you think you're going?"

"To sleep," Sam said.

"We're tired," Jazmine sighed and tossed her head for emphasis.

Chewy tossed his head like he had four braids on his head, too. "Why so far away?"

"We," Sam said, "We want to talk about girl things. Like menstrual cycles." The boys made faces and Chewy eyed them suspiciously. Sam decided the best thing to do was to go into detail. "Maybe the zombies are attracted by the smell of blood."

"Oh please no!" Monkeyface cried, but whether it was the zombies or the blood he was scared of Sam could not say.

"Could be," said Stella. "Hospitals have a lot of blood in them, that's why all the zombies attacked."

"Zombies attacked the hospital because people went to the hospital," Chewy said. "Zombies are attracted to people."

"Then maybe we're not safe in a group," Jazmine said quickly. "Maybe we ought to split up."

"You sit your ass down." Chewy indicated with his gun. "Zombies like one person as much as a group, and you're safer in a group, Marcia."

Jazmine had to sit. Sam sat next to her. Jazmine always sat too close, but for once she didn't mind.

"Zombies are bloodier than humans," The Stick was saying.

"Maybe they can sense heat," Monkeyface suggested.

"How could a zombie sense something we can't?" Stella asked. "Zombies are just sick humans."

"They're dead," said The Stick.

"Impossible. The dead can't walk."

"A virus is an amazing thing," Sam said, and everyone was quiet. She always ended the conversation when she talked. "A virus can literally take over your brain, reprogram you just by inserting its own DNA into your cells. A zombie is a walking virus. According to the movies."

"Why humans?" Monkeyface asked.

Since when had she become an expert? "I don't know, I've just seen zombies movies." Sam thought to all she knew about viruses. "Zombies are weak and easy to kill. They're controlled by viruses, which are organisms just like us. They just want to breed, but the only way they can breed is to spread themselves across hosts. The zombie virus makes a host attack another potential host."

"I'm not getting any sleep tonight," said Monkeyface, and the boys laughed.

Chewy was looking at her and nodding. Sam looked away, and she realized she was shaking.

ztales: Sam: 12/17/07

2007-12-17T16:45:45Z

Chewy led them off of a bike path and said, "Here's good. We'll camp here." The boys threw their backpacks down with exaggerated groans and cracked jokes, and discovered all the tents and camping equipment in their backpacks, along with ammunition and more guns. Jazmine and Sam exchanged looks.

"Go get some firewood, Axegirl," Stella called.

"I'm sick of these nicknames," Sam told Jazmine as they crossed the bike path to look at the trees there. "I'm sick of not knowing anyone's name. I'm sick of being called Angel and Shortie and Gams."

"I know," Jazmine said. "Let's leave right now."

Sam froze where she was. She looked back at the camp, where the boys were in the dark, poking each other with tent poles. The Stick stroked one of his with exaggeration, making moaning noises.

"Yeah, let's," she said.

They heaved their backpacks as one, and walked away.

"Angel girl," she heard Chewy call, "Angel girl and her friend, where are you going?"

"We're getting firewood."

"You're going awfully far away."

Sam turned around. She could see them through the trees. They were all looking at them now, and she saw that Chewy was holding his gun, and Stella had his hand in his backpack. She felt the breath catch in her throat, but she told herself that she had lied before, many times before, and everyone always believed her.

"It's harder to track out here," she said. "Right there's right off the path, they can see where we are."

"Don't care," Chewy said, and she heard the click of the safety even from here. "You get some firewood closer to the campsite now. Don't want to strain your back, that could prove fatal."

Sam felt the blood rush from her face. She had to make herself breathe. Jazmine was looking at her. Her eyes were wide as plates.

"Right," said Sam. "If you don't care, then we don't care." She took one step, and another, and they went back to the boys.