Zombie Mart [DRAFT]

Part 7: Shamble, Shamble, Revolution

Aug 14, 2020   ◦   ~ 800 words / 4 minutes

An eerie calm settled in the foyer. The ghoulish zombies stood in a loose line, hungrily eyeing their next meal. Gun, Dusty, Octavia, Jillian, and Jacques stood opposite them. A scant row of check-out registers was all that separated Gun from the zombie line up. He wouldn’t be surprised if a giant tumbleweed bounded across the floor between them.

The creatures outside moaned and pressed on the cage. Like some kind of horrible mosh pit—even worse than a normal one—each vied for the best view of the impending carnage.

His eyes scanned down the row of monsters. He half expected one to growl, Red rover, red rover, let Gun come over.

Gun grinned as he imagined running through a line of zombies holding hands. One of the imaginary zombie’s arms flies off when he breaks through. It staggers back and looks at where its arm used to be attached. It lets out a high-pitched grunt of confusion.


Gun’s chuckle wasn’t loud.

But, apparently, it was loud enough.

The zombies lurched forward, air stirring in their wake. The fetid smell of decay overwhelmed the foyer, making Jillian audibly gag.

Dusty screamed an impressive battle cry and launched himself at the horde. Holding his shovel overhead, he jumped on a check-out conveyor, leaped into the air, and swung hard. Gun thought Dusty looked like Super Mario with his hammer. Only instead of mashing a mushroom, he splattered a zombie’s skull everywhere, collapsing the creature all the way to the floor.

“Not bad.” Gun flashed an impressed frown. “My turn.”

Gun ran toward the nearest shuffling corpse and swung at it, golf style, with his double-edged loop hoe. It sounded out a satisfying whistle as it swept through the air. The result, however, was much less satisfactory. With a loud squelch, it wound up embedded in the creature’s crotch.

“Oh, dude. That’s not right.” Gun tried to pull the hoe out, but it was lodged in the creature’s pelvis. He yanked on the hoe’s handle, and the zombie’s hips flailed in a way that would even make Elvis blush.

“Oh, never mind.” He dropped the handle and pulled a machete from his belt. He hacked at the monster’s neck like it was a particularly bad-smelling jungle vine. On the third whack, the creature’s head separated from its body and dropped to the floor. “Wow, that’s harder than it looks.”

The zombies continued their trudging death march. None of these creatures was all that fast, which was good. Gun was still getting the hang of this game of death.

And there was no cheat code for real life.

Olivia watched Gun struggle, eyebrows raised.

“Boys.” Octavia shook her head and walked between two check-out stalls. Attached to one side of the aisle was a chain with a clasp and a small plastic sign that read: Closed. She pulled it across the lane and latched it. She took a couple of steps back and watched as zombies queued up. They shuffled up to the chain and pushed against it. Wasting no time, she took a broad swing of her narrow spade and lopped the lead zombie’s head off.

“Nice one!” Gun said from across the foyer.

Octavia smiled as she worked, merrily chopping them down like weeds in her garden.

Jacques collected his ax and rushed to Jillian. She had recoiled to the far corner, her back against the wall. She cowered, making herself as small as possible, and muttered incoherently.

“It’s okay.” Jacques leaned over and put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m here.”

“Look out!” Jillian’s eyes were wide, pupils dilated so much they looked black.

Jacques spun around and saw a particularly spry member of the undead leap at him. It was too fast and too close for him to get his ax into position as a weapon, so he held it across his chest like a shield and pushed the zombie back.

A Judogi draped limply over the creature’s gaunt frame, rotten skin stretched thinly over a grinning skull. Jacques blinked with surprise as it pushed him onto on his heals. It only took him a second to gather his wits and widen his stance. They were evenly matched in their pushing contest—each exerting their full strength on the ax handle.

The zombie showed an unexpected judo flourish by quickly changing from pushing to pulling. It leveraged Jacques’ momentum into a shoulder throw. Halfway through the motion, it snapped its jaws and bit into him.

Blood exploded into the air and followed him in his arc to the floor. He hit with such force that he slid several yards across the cement. His path drawn in crimson, his body eased to a stop.

He still clutched the ax in his right hand.


Zombie Mart [DRAFT] Part 6: Twerk It, Boys
Dec 2, 2019  ○  ~ 1,050 words / 5 minutes


Zombie Mart [DRAFT] Part 8: Foyer Fracas
Aug 31, 2020  ○  ~ 1,300 words / 7 minutes