A collection of horror, mystery, and science fiction tales, with contributions from fellow writers, James Darko and Dexter Lynch. If you wish to contribute, I'd be happy to showcase your writing. Just send me a message. The stories are free to read and always will be. Some are better than others (I'm speaking only for myself), but I can't give all my best ideas away for free, ha ha. Feel free to share any stories, but please be sure to give credit where credit is due.
Saturday, January 31, 2015
IN THE FLESH: PART THIRTY THREE
Genre: Horror (Zombies)
Ryder: Ex-police officer/Ex-marine/Lost his wife Caroline, and daughter
Charlotte/The unofficial leader of the group/Dying for a cigarette/Has mixed
feelings about Nikki Fox
Smith: Doomsday prepper/He was expecting and preparing for the zombie
apocalypse for years/Lives in a fortified compound with a tremendous arsenal of
Mills: Survivor found outside the Starlight Hotel/Lost her boyfriend and her
family to the Biters/Former exotic dancer/Not afraid to use a gun
Fox: Former registered nurse/Lost contact with her family during the first
initial weeks of the outbreak/Was married once but hid that fact from the
group/She is secretly in love with Carson Ryder
White: Born and raised in Arkansas/Has never left the state before/He has a
criminal record, but he’s not a violent man and tends to avoid confrontation if
Loomis: Originally from Utah/Friends with Reggie/A perpetual fountain of random
facts and useless information
Chen: Runner/Competed in the Olympics/Knows how to use a gun but he prefers a
DeVito: Originally from New York/Not too bright/Afraid to use a gun for fear of
shooting himself or someone else/Former used car salesman
Greene: First survivor who was taken in by Corey/She is a recovering alcoholic
who manages with the support of Nikki Fox/Trying to take back control of her
IN THE FLESH
By Daniel Skye
PART THIRTY THREE
Day Three Hundred And Fifteen.
Sleep evaded Carson Ryder all night.
The last thing he was going to do was
surrender to Eli Carver and his gang of vicious, brainwashed thugs. Yes, they
were heavily outnumbered. But Carson would rather die fighting than surrender
to the likes of Eli Carver. Of course, refusing to surrender meant war.
These were all good people. And none
of them deserved to die. But Carson knew that battling Eli meant putting all their
lives in jeopardy. He had to prepare them for what they were up against.
The group was exhausted and unnerved.
They loaded up on water and stale soda pop for the caffeine; munched on fruit
flavored energy bars and preservatives. Anything to regain their strength and
Corey and Ryder were up at dawn to
raid the Quonset hut and take inventory. They had Carson’s twelve-gauge
Remington and four other standard pump-action shotguns. Plus two tactical Mossberg
500s. One Smith & Wesson pistol, currently in Nikki’s possession. Several
revolvers, one in Taryn’s possession. Two .38 pistols that belonged to Damien
Albright. Vern Sheldon’s .357 Magnum.
They also had three rifles that
belonged to Scotty, Reggie, and the deceased Drake Sharpe. And Corey had
several rifles in his own personal collection for backup.
Everyone in the group was carrying a
blade of some kind. Carson had his machete, and he always kept a pocket knife
tucked into one of his boots just in case. And Luke Chen had his katana, his
weapon of choice.
Corey also had grenades, chainsaws,
axes, hatchets, machetes, and a bazooka in his arsenal. Not to mention all the
other guns and ammo he’d stockpiled over the course of several years.
But all this weaponry did not distract
them from the fact that it was Eli, Mr. Jones, and their small army versus nine
“Taryn,” Ryder called her over that
morning as Corey distributed the artillery. “Let me see that revolver.” She
handed him her gun and Ryder passed her a nickel-plated Mossberg. “You’re going
to need a bigger gun. One that holds more bullets. And you’ll need this for
backup.” He gave her a holster and a .27 Beretta that held up to ten rounds as
opposed to the six the revolver held.
The Beretta also had a spring-loaded
clip which made it much faster and easier to reload. Corey passed her four
extra clips for the Beretta and a box of shells for the Mossberg.
Ryder gave the other Mossberg to Nikki
Fox and told her to hang on to the Smith & Wesson for backup. Corey
dispensed to her the rest of the additional shells for the Mossberg and told
her if she ran low on ammo, to head back to the hut and grab another weapon.
They also gave her extra rounds for the Smith & Wesson.
Scotty and Reggie claimed their rifles
and packed as many additional rounds as their pockets could hold. Then Corey
divided Damien’s .38 pistols and gave one to each of them.
“Amy,” Ryder said to her. “I know you’re
not a fan of guns. But we need every person we’ve got fighting on the
frontline. This belonged to my friend, Kenny. It’s a semi-automatic pistol and
it holds fifteen rounds.”
Ryder passed the gun off to Amy and
showed her how to load it, gave her three extra clips to stash in her pockets.
“Now it’s your turn, Dom,” Corey said.
“No way,” DeVito shook his head. “You
know how I feel about guns. I’m no good with them. I can’t be trusted. I’ll probably
shoot myself in the foot. Or I could shoot somebody else. Think about what
“Everyone has to do their part,” Corey
told him. “Now take your pick.”
Dominic sighed and eventually chose a
simple handgun that held ten rounds. Corey gave him a rundown of the basics and
supplied him with extra ammunition.
Luke Chen was content with his katana,
but Corey insisted he carry one of the pump-action shotguns. They had no clue
how many of Eli’s followers were armed with guns.
“I don’t really need a gun,” Chen had
said. “I’m faster than lightning. I was a professional runner. I won two gold
medals in the Olympics.”
“You’re not going to need gold medals to
survive this,” Ryder said. “Just brass balls.”
“We should talk strategy, positioning,”
Corey said to Ryder. “Do you have a plan?”
“The plan is to fight like our lives
depended on it,” Ryder said.
* * *
Eli Carver appeared first at the top
of the hill.
Then Jones. Then their sixty-plus followers stormed down the
hill, two broad-shouldered men lugging a police battering ram at their sides. A
little souvenir from the police station where they had taken up residence in
Most of them were armed with Mossberg’s that Eli had found
locked in a cage inside the station. The rest were armed with weapons they had
collected over time. And those that didn’t have guns were armed with baseball
bats, wrenches, lead pipes, or anything they could get their hands on.
Eli had one of those police bullhorns that amplified his
voice. He pressed the bullhorn to his dry, cracked lips and shouted, “Your
twenty-four hours are up. Set your weapons down and surrender, or we’re
prepared to ram this gate in, come in there, and take what’s ours.”
“This property isn’t yours,” Ryder shouted back, sans
bullhorn. “And I’d rather die than surrender it to the likes of you.”
“Ask and you shall receive,” Eli said through the bullhorn and
on his command, the two men started ramming the gate of the compound. It was
locked tight, but the lock wouldn’t hold forever.
Ryder and the group took their positions around the outhouses,
and Ryder gave Corey the nod.
Corey, up on the roof of the manor, peered through the scope
of his rifle and fired one warning shot that ricocheted off the wrought iron
bars of the fence. But their enemies just returned fire and sent the gang
running for cover behind the outhouses.
The lock inevitably snapped and the
gate swung open. Corey fired two more shots, taking down the men who were working
the battering ram. But the damage had been done. It was already too late.
With the gate open, the men and women
that hung on Jones and Eli’s every word entered, and the war had truly begun.
Corey used the sniper rifle to
eliminate as many foot soldiers as he could. But they eventually spotted him
and returned fire, sending him scrambling for cover up on the roof where he was
virtually out in the open.
The gun shook in DeVito’s trembling
hand as he fired rounds from behind the outhouse. He couldn’t believe he was
actually doing it. He tried to make every shot count, but there were enemies
moving in all directions and all the shots seemed to do was hold them at bay or
make them fallback and search for cover.
Ryder was in the zone. He pumped the
Remington, fired it, and repeated. He only stopped to reload and he made every
shot count. He never missed once.
Bodies were spread out all across the
compound, but there were still fifty or more followers they were up against.
Corey yanked the pin of a grenade with
his teeth, sent it hurling through the air, and it exploded just as it hit the
ground, taking out six men with one fatal blow.
And that’s when he saw the zombies
descending the hill. The screaming, the gunshots, the explosions. All the noise
had drawn them out and they had formed a solid pack. One by one, they all piled
into the compound through the busted gate.
Corey lost count after fifty, but he
assumed there was more than a hundred. And he could see more lumbering through
the woods, heading straight towards the compound. He’d never seen this many at
once before. It was unprecedented. And it spelled bad news for everyone