Oh, look at them, the “young, dumb, and full of cum” brigade. I remember being like them. The nights were long and sweet. I could drink my belly full of suds then bang two or three babes before the sun came up. When the dead came back, my two buds and me would take out hundreds of them in the light of the setting sun.
One night, we decided that we’d do them dead bastards some damage before we called it a night. We stole some night-vision goggles and guns from the armory, then snuck through the city gates into the dark squalid streets of Dead Town that surrounded us. They were easy to find with their idiotic groans. We started firing, exploding their heads in the pale moon light.
“Out of ammo,” Tim said.
“What the fuck man?” Billy yelled at him. “You said you grabbed enough. I got a full clip, how much you got left?”
“My clip is almost full,” I said. “Enough to get back to the gates if we don’t run into many.”
We retraced our steps and didn’t shoot unless they blocked us. We rested in an alcove before we finished our travels. Billy led us out and we turned a corner into an ambush of the putrid dead. I was lucky, I only lost my legs, Billy and Tim died. The bar-keep says he’s seen them a few times on his duty nights but he doesn’t have the heart to take them out.
Read all the entries at The Weird, the Wild and the Wicked!