Flash Fiction - Telling a story in no more than 400 words.
We Are Undead
Peering out through a gap in the boarded up window I see that more have gathered outside. I check my pistol again and smile wryly. There's not going to be any more shells there than there were five minutes ago. One in the chamber and three in the magazine.
Not enough.
Alison, watching me, starts sobbing again.
'There's nothing we can do, is there."
It's not a question, just a bald statement of fact. I turn away from the window and walk towards her. Holding her in my arms I smooth her hair. Every instinct is telling me to run....but to where. I kiss her hair and bring my face down to hers so she can see my eyes.
'There is always something we can do. We won't become like them...those dead things. I won't let us be turned like Jake. That will not happen, I promise you. We will live. We will stay alive.'
Alison nods her head almost imperceptibly. Her red rimmed eyes glisten in the dim light. She doesn't believe me.
'Ian, we are not alive. We are as dead as everyone else out there. Just because we are not dead yet does not make it living. We are the undead. Not those things.'
I let her go and watch her move to the corner of room where Jake, our son, lies on the floor. Blood has pooled on the floor in a black puddle from the bite wounds on his arms and the gunshot wound to his head. Alison sits down and turns her back to me. She cradles Jake in her arms not caring about the gore that surrounds her and I see her shoulders move as she starts crying again.
I move to be with my family. Placing one hand on her shoulder I offer the only comfort I can.
'I love you Alison, no matter what...'
The sharp retort of the pistol is extremely loud in the confines of the room. It brings renewed scratching and banging on the already battered doors and windows.
'We are undead. Now we join the dead.'
The second pistol shot is heard only by the creatures outside.
Peering out through a gap in the boarded up window I see that more have gathered outside. I check my pistol again and smile wryly. There's not going to be any more shells there than there were five minutes ago. One in the chamber and three in the magazine.
Not enough.
Alison, watching me, starts sobbing again.
'There's nothing we can do, is there."
It's not a question, just a bald statement of fact. I turn away from the window and walk towards her. Holding her in my arms I smooth her hair. Every instinct is telling me to run....but to where. I kiss her hair and bring my face down to hers so she can see my eyes.
'There is always something we can do. We won't become like them...those dead things. I won't let us be turned like Jake. That will not happen, I promise you. We will live. We will stay alive.'
Alison nods her head almost imperceptibly. Her red rimmed eyes glisten in the dim light. She doesn't believe me.
'Ian, we are not alive. We are as dead as everyone else out there. Just because we are not dead yet does not make it living. We are the undead. Not those things.'
I let her go and watch her move to the corner of room where Jake, our son, lies on the floor. Blood has pooled on the floor in a black puddle from the bite wounds on his arms and the gunshot wound to his head. Alison sits down and turns her back to me. She cradles Jake in her arms not caring about the gore that surrounds her and I see her shoulders move as she starts crying again.
I move to be with my family. Placing one hand on her shoulder I offer the only comfort I can.
'I love you Alison, no matter what...'
The sharp retort of the pistol is extremely loud in the confines of the room. It brings renewed scratching and banging on the already battered doors and windows.
'We are undead. Now we join the dead.'
The second pistol shot is heard only by the creatures outside.