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|No tears for the dead (standard:horror, 2292 words)|
|Author: margisama||Added: Feb 15 2006||Views/Reads: 2801/1746||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Genevieve Bloughton is just another person trying to survive the zombie apocalypse...or is she?|
No one knew what had set things in motion, they knew only what the ultimate result of that unknown trigger had been; to the world and the people who had once inhabited it. She'd been far from television and radios when the end had arrived, and hadn't been privy to what she assumed must have been frantic news bulletins and evacuation orders. Sometimes when boredom set in-and boredom had, unfortunately, become her most frequent state of mind-she mulled over what sorts of theories and hypotheses the educated elite had put forth during those first few weeks to explain what was happening around them. Radiation, biological or chemical warfare, a natural virus...those were a few of the possible explanations that she thought seemed the most reasonable, but then again, people probably hadn't been satisfied with a reasonable explanation. What rational, natural process could cause the dead to return to life anyway? Knowing the number of conspiracy theorists out there, she wouldn't have been surprised if more eccentric causes had been suggested as panic and desperation sat in. The religious fundamentalists had probably had a field-day before they'd been forced to worry about their own survival. In a way, she was grateful she hadn't had to deal with any of that- people ranting about it being God's punishment on a sinful world or the sci-fi crazies spouting equally ludicrous theories about hostile aliens causing the chaos so they could take over the world while humanity was distracted. In truth, she supposed it really didn't matter `how' it had all started in the first place. Things were the way they were, and crying about it would be about as useless as sitting down and having an empty debate about the hows and whys of everything. The faint chirping of birds distracted her from her thoughts then, and she lifted her head to gaze out the partially broken window she'd been crouching behind for what must have been several hours. The light filtering in from the outside world perked her interest, as well as the faint mist rising from the pavement. It had been dark when she'd broken into the building, and raining, but now it seemed the rain was over. Might as well move on since the sun was up, she decided, rising to her feet and ignoring the creaking of her stiff limbs. She'd long since discovered that it was safer to travel during the day; there was far more of a chance of having a dangerous encounter at night, and she'd always liked to think of herself as a practical person-at least most of the time...there `had' been an instance or two when she'd demonstrated less than-impeccable intellect, but it wasn't like it was anything she could fix ‘now'. Sighing, she pulled open the battered door, pausing only a moment to cast a brief glance over one shoulder. Not like abandoned hardware stores were luxury accommodations anyway. Leaving her temporary shelter behind, she made her way deeper into what once had been a small, pleasant-looking town in the northeastern united states. She was relatively sure she was somewhere in upstate new York, but thusfar hadn't come to a town she was familiar with; having originally been from Massachusetts herself. Rather depressing if you stopped and allowed yourself to think about it for too long, the notion crossed her mind as she walked down the middle of what used to be the main street through the quaint hamlet. Granted, it was somewhat nice not to have to worry about being ran over by a speeding car or being forced to listen to the raucous, rude honking of irritated motorists, but if the trade-off for that convenience and peace was the empty streets littered with discarded newspapers and abandoned vehicles, and the rows of forlorn shops forever waiting for shoppers who were probably never coming back- she wasn't sure it was worth it, not at all. Abruptly, she came to a halt; nostrils flaring as she took in a scent that seemed out of place in the empty-seeming town. Amid the fresh, clean smell of lingering rain and the first few flowers of spring that were already beginning to come up between the cracks of the ruined sidewalks, there was a taint of something nature had never produced-gunpowder. Suddenly on the alert, she chose her steps more cautiously now, moving off of the main street and keeping to the sides of the deserted Click here to read the rest of this story (153 more lines)
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