Zombie Drabble #451: "Walkabout"

“Remember ‘Big Chuck’?”

It was two in the morning, they were on wall duty. Jerry looked up to see Alice pointing down at the footpath approach to the main gate. “Holy shit.” Tattered clothes, hair matted, missing half an arm, and zombified, but it was Chuck. It ambled forward, aimlessly, unconcerned; it hadn’t smelled them yet. “How long since he went missing?”

“Year and a half. Maybe a little more. I remember it was cold.”

“Iris will be happy.”

Alice looked at him aghast. “Happy?”

“Well, at least now she’ll know. Closure,” Jerry insisted. “Think she’ll want to shoot him?”

Zombie Drabble #450: "Patience"

Someone was yelling something in the distance, something indistinct. Maybe a call for help, maybe a threat: no way to know unless they got closer. Below him, in the shadow of the water tower, a zombie turned and started shuffling towards the yelling. Then a second, and a third. Soon more than half the crowd was moving off, crossing the road, disappearing between houses and into the treeline. The ones remaining were distracted, unable to choose between the new noise and the older scent they had been following. He’d have an opportunity, soon, if his luck held.

Keep yelling, motherfucker.