The Dangerous Dunes
Page 1
Sometimes I wondered why I bothered eating in that foul place. We lost our capacity for making proper food when Doug, the town chef, was mauled to death at midnight in the last attack. When he died, and the rest of the town mourned, I decided that pillaging his house was a better idea than crying and weeping. But forget Doug. Most of us did, and I had better things to think about.
For example, the expedition into the world beyond. We were running low on building supplies, so me, Roberto and Roseangela decided that we needed to go and find nuts, bolts, cement, anything to make our lives even marginally better. We left as soon as the horde had dispersed from the town gates. We set off into the distance, seeking an abandoned construction site that a scout had once told me about.
Page 2
As we made our journey onwards, the sands seeped into our tattered shoes, weighing us down, making us tired. We had to rest, and soon. Therefore, we crashed down onto the hot sands, taking generous gulps of water from our individual canteens. In hindsight, it was foolish of us not to notice the zombies that were now surrounding us, and coming closer and closer. We were too involved in the idea of a quick rest, of water, and something to eat. We paid no heed to the dangerous dunes.
Such regret I felt when thinking of those things has long since left my rotted flesh and splintered bones. Now, I think only of the meal that lies beyond those great gates...
Author : Indyclone77