Tired Of Dying - Jeff Carroll
TIRED OF DYING
by Jeff Carroll
“This is some straight bull! I give up! I am tired. What are we supposed to do now? Why should we go on? Give me one good reason
Stan?”
Milton stood up and walked toward the window. The view was all smoke and ash. He turned to his childhood friend, who had
partnered with him on every adventure since kindergarten. “And don’t give me any of that ‘start the human race from the beginning crap’
because its not going to work.”
“The girl that was with us is gone! Brenda is dead! She just walked out to get eaten. She’s gone and so is everybody else. They’re all dead.
And the ones that aren’t dead are walking around eating them! This is a Zombie World and everything is dead or dying!”
The heavy set kid stood up and walked over to the kitchen area of the apartment they’d been living in. His clothes were dirty and
smelly; his eyes swollen and red. And his lips were drier that the Grand Canyon in the summer.
“Calm down,” Stan said. He opened the refrigerator door and took out a scratched-up bottle of Bacardi. He opened it and swallowed it
straight.
“Calm down? Calm down time is over. I was calm before. Sure I can think of a way to run and hide from these creatures but why?”
“We just need to chill. This can’t be the end.”
“You obviously think so too!” Milton retorted. “Cause you’re drinking the rum you said you’d save until we found more people! So,
don’t give me that. It’s a Zombie World Stan!”
“Yes I know.”
“No you don’t get it. They’re everywhere. The whole world. All we’ve been doing is running around. And we ain’t going nowhere,”
Milton said heatedly.
The sound of a security alarm cut through their conversation, and a red police light began to flash. Milton and Stan both jumped up,
and ran down to the first floor to a command center styled room. The room had TV monitors with visuals of each corner of the compounds
perimeter. Stan looked at each screen and saw images of zombies running down the driveway.
“There they are,” Stan said as he pointed to the monitor. “Brenda must have attracted them. Let’s get the guns, they’re only a few”
He turned to Stan and smiled.”Let’s give ‘em some heat,”
“That’s what’s up!”
The two raced each other through their compound. Milton made it to the base of a ladder first. Stan climbed up another ladder on the
opposite side of the main entrance. The two put on motorcycle helmets.
Before they grabbed their guns, they gave each other a thumbs down signal. Stan grabbed a large two-handled gun and squeezed the
trigger: causing a burst of flaming liquid to spray out. Three of the z