One Foot In Front of the Other (Free Story Friday)

BOOK: One Foot In Front of the Other (Free Story Friday)
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Copyright ©
2013 Josh Hilden

All rights reserved.

 

A Call to Action!

 

If you will forgive me, and even if you won’t, I am going to take a few minutes of your time before you dive into your download.

 

I am an Indie Writer. This means that I am either self publishing my work or I am being published by a small company and not one of the “Big 6” publishers. I enjoy being independent, I can write what I want when I want with little to no oversight from above.

 

It also means I am doing all of the heavy lifting for myself.

 

That is the part I enjoy the least. I don’t enjoy constantly spamming social media with information on my latest work, but it is a task I have to do.

 

“But Josh”
you ask,
“What can I do to help you out?”

 

The answer is very simple. I have a short list of things you can do to give me a helping hand.

 


     
Share information about my work with your friends and family


     
Like, review, and rate my work on Amazon and Goodreads (of course if you don’t like something I would prefer you not leave negative feedback)


     
Finally you can sign up for my mailing list (link below) to keep up with the latest goings on with me and my work

I look forward to producing more products that you can enjoy and I anticipate a long and happy reader/writer relationship!

 

-
         
Josh Hilden

 

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Swing and a miss!

             
That was the first reaction which stomped through Dana’s mind when she saw the kid with the club. He was carrying a club, probably a pre-plague baseball bat, heavily modified with rebar and leather reinforcement over the last twenty years. She watched him swing for the head of the groaning mess trying to get a grip on his young and juicy body.

             
She had to give the kid credit for guts though even as he missed with his first clumsy attack he simply backed up a few paces and tried again. This time the weapon connected with the right shoulder of the monster trundling toward the boy. The full motion reminded her of Zane back in the early days.

             
Dana winced as she heard the snap and crack of bones being held together by skin that was more leather than flesh break under the force of the impact. The sound was one she was intimately acquainted with. The creature that had once been a human being, Dana studied the shreds of clothing still clinging to the gaunt form and realized this one had been a soldier at one time the fatigues still identifiable under the layers of dried mud and gore, stumbled under the blow but did not go down.

             
“Shit!” The kid cried in frustration, his voice was a little high and had the slight breaking of someone just beginning to enter his manhood. He stepped back three more steps and readied to swing again she could see the runnels of sweat gleaming on his heavily tanned skin and his long brown hair blowing in the gentle breeze gave him a slightly ethereal quality. She was painfully reminded of Zane as she watched the kid refuse to give up and flee the zombie before him.

             
“Boy has guts.” Dana said to herself. She never took her eyes off of him as she unslung the rifle from her back and worked the lever action driving a round into the chamber. A voice in the back of her mind gave a tusking noise when she realized that the kid had not heard the snacking of the lever and bolt. He was brave but not nearly observant enough for her liking. Zane would have smacked her on the back of her head for having so little situational awareness.

             
She was surprised when she realized the boy was not preparing to swing for the head which was a good six inches higher than his own this time. The angle of his stance showed he was aiming somewhere a good deal south of the creature’s skull. He swung and connected solidly with the knee of the zombie, there was a loud popping noise as the lower leg was dislocated from the upper leg and the creature, that should have been dead maybe twenty years ago but was not, fell to the ground leaving the dislocated section flopping and useless. The thing was persistent though and it began to crawl toward the boy. Its skeletal fingers were digging into the cracked and busted asphalt that was once the parking lot of a burned out shopping complex, moaning and reaching.

             
Dana shivered.

             
No matter how many times she heard it the hunting moan all zombies employed to call their brethren to the feast never failed to give her the creeps. She began to scan the tree line for movement, if they were lucky there wouldn’t be too many of the things within easy hearing distance, but then she heard the answering moans and knew luck was not with her today.

             
The boy did hear the moans of the dead and his head shot up as he spun around looking in all directions to see if any of the former residents of Wayne Michigan were about to put in an appearance. As his eyes scanned the over turned semi trailer Dana was leaning against, he jumped back half a step in surprise. He looked at the rifle braced across her forearm and cocked his head in a silent question, “Is that gonna be used on me?”

             
Dana shook her head and nodded toward the former soldier now less than five feet from the kids cracked and faded engineer’s boots. He looked down, raised his war club, and swung it down into the withered skull. There was the sound of a pumpkin splitting open and the creature stopped moving for good this time.

             
He started to walk toward Dana when motion in the old shopping center caught both of their eyes. Three figures were heading toward them reaching and moaning in anticipation of a warm meal.

             
“Come on kid.” Dana called out abandoning the noise discipline that had served her so well for the majority of her life. Now that they’d been made by the locals speed was more important than stealth.
Zane would not have approved of this,
she thought to herself as she raised the carefully maintained rifle and took aim on the closest zombie.

             
CRACK!

             
The head of the first zombie exploded and the creature dropped to the ground.

             
She worked the lever, ejecting the spent round and chambering the next … CRACK!

             
And the next one fell.

             
One more time she manipulated the weapon Zane had carried for fifteen years, beginning in Vancouver British Columbia and ending in a nameless little town in West Virginia … CRACK!

             
And the final one was dispatched.

             
“Wow” the kid breathed as he closed the last dozen yards between them. “Where did you learn to shoot like that?” He said. Dana was uncomfortable with the worshipful look she saw in his bright green eyes. She thought Zane may have seen the same thing when he found her trapped in the RV outside of Calgary.

             
“A friend taught me” she replied slinging the weapon over her shoulder. For a full minute neither spoke as they scanned the area for more visitors. To anyone living in the post plague world it was an action which had become second nature over the years.

             
“What were you doing out there?” Dana asked after she was relatively sure they were safe for the moment. You were never 100% safe in the open on the ground but it had been more than a year since Dana had encountered a real horde.

             
“What do you mean?” He asked strapping his club to his hip. The kid was all ropey muscles and tight sinew. He had the hard look all survivors had these days. But he was grinning like the cat that got the cream.

             
“You were playing with that thing. When you encounter a ghoul you put it down, it’s not a toy it’s death.” She said coldly.

             
“I’m training” He said. He was looking at her again and now she realized he was probably only thirteen or fourteen years old.

             
He wasn’t even born when the world was right.
She thought and shook her head sadly.

             
“If I don’t practice hunting and killing them how the fuck will I protect myself when I get cornered by a pack?” He asked cocking his head curiously.

             
They began to walk toward the road together. Neither was conscious that they were following the other. It was a gorgeous sunny June day. The last two years had been something approaching normal, the ashes from the dead cities burning had finally begun falling from the upper atmosphere allowing the globe to warm again.

             
A hawk cried out in the distance.

             
“Where do you live?” Dana asked. She unhooked the ancient canteen from her belt and took a hard pull then offered it to the boy who gulped down half the contents.

             
“Me and my mom live with a group” he replied not giving details. Dana approved, they had just met and she had no need to know where he lived. He was so calm and confident. It had been a long time since Dana had met anyone who seemed to have a hopeful outlook on life.

             
“What do you do?” He suddenly asked her.

             
Dana broke out laughing. It was the last question she would have ever guessed the boy would ask. “I travel” she said giggling.

             
“Well yeah” he said, “But what do you do?”

             
Dana thought about it for a second. The kid was so like she had been as a kid. They stopped and she reached into her bag and brought out a fat notebook. She handed it to him.

             
“Can you read?” She asked.

             
“Yep, mom says I have to understand the world if I am going to live in it. She was a teacher.” He replied smiling. “What is this?” He asked.

             
“My journal, I record everything I see and do on the road. Tonight I will write about you.” She didn’t know why she added that last part but the grin that split his face made her heart sore.

             
“Really? That is totally cool!” He said. “Why do you do it?” He asked and his genuine interest was infectious.

             
“One day this will all be over. The dead will be nothing more than a nuisance if they are even still around. Then we will rebuild and people will want to know what happened during the dark years.” She said. It had been Zane who had started the first of the six journals she carried. She had made copies of them and hidden them around North America just in case she never had an opportunity to hand them off.

             
“Wow” he said again and began flipping through the pages. Dana smiled. He was really a good kid.

             
“I gotta get moving kiddo” she said after a minute.

             
The disappointment on his face hurt her but she had nowhere to stay and the closest community was three day hike. She needed to find a place to hold up for the night.

             
“Um” he started, “Do you want to come back to my house? My mom would love to see your books.” H said shyly.

             
Dana grinned, “I would love to” she said.

             
The boy yipped with joy and they headed off together. Placing one foot in front of the other and the sun setting behind them, the world full of new possibilities.

 

 

The End

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