By and copyright Owen Quinn author of the Time Warriors and Zombie Blues
The zombie rollercoaster continues as the undead continue to give us their view of being a rotting corpse under the control of Mother Nature.
This time round we meet Comic Book zombie and the zombie who thinks the ending of Toy Story 3 is sacrilege. What happens when a zombie’s faith in God is rocked to its very foundation and why is the spirit of Elvis Presley still going strong in the vast
roaming herds?
A zombie tells why the covid pandemic was much preferable to being undead and why having a club foot makes you feel normal as a zombie. Plus more zombie characters than you can shake a stick at.
Available on Amazon now!
Far From Home Zombie
Hell came to Earth the day the apocalypse began. Fires ignited red and gold infernos turning the blue angelic skies dark with wretched dank smoke that smelt of tar and flesh. It clogged the lungs of all those who fell beneath its wraith choking cowl that swept across the land like a dark tsunami. People clawed at their throats as the insidious serpentine smoke poured down into their lungs like an oily liquid. Their screams of the innocent echoed across the land. Blood flowed into once fertile ground and willow trees wept silent tears beneath the burden of yet more human foolishness. If the foliage relied on happiness and joy to grow then they would be mere weeds at this stage. It was a world of fear and dread where the slightest sound could summon cold death swooping in like a vulture. Families were torn apart and the pain of the world was broadcast through the cries of babies.
Now a father would snap his baby’s tiny neck to save the lives of twenty people cowering with the shadow of death mere feet away. I saw it happen. I can’t get it out of my head. I was not prepared for this. It burns my memory even now as a member of the undead. Even zombies get nightmares; some acts disgust even us. The silence after the snap was like a punch in the head. The sound was as delicate as the baby’s neck itself. I watched with numbed shock trying not to scream as acid tears streamed my face as the father closed the limp baby’s eyes as he choked back his own grief. I wanted to throw up but had to hold it down. I can still taste the taste of it in the back of my throat. In the trembling father’s arms I saw every baby I had ever known lying there sacrificed to stop another mass murder. I saw my very own future babies ripped away by the tendril phantoms of this hell. This picture of a proud father cradling his innocent baby should have been one of joy and pride but instead was distorted into a horror movie. I was not prepared for this. They never told me about this.
War is hell was drummed into us but I literally had no idea what bone shattering depravity true hell really could bring.
Now with this shitty damned zombie apocalypse I have been plunged from one war to another. I will never see my family again. I know that; none of my squad will.
The Time Warriors and Beyond 