The Zombie Slayer

Chapter One: Sleeping through the Apocalypse

The Zombie Slayer

by

David L. Dostaler

Day 1

The day of the apocalypse there was much screaming. There was also much swearing, but no one heard it because of the kid-friendly version of the screenplay being made.

No one was exactly sure how the virus caused everything organic to turn into sand except for humans. However, there wasn’t much time to worry about it because of the zombies chewing on your legs. Also, for some bizarre reason, all the mammals turned into psychotic killing machines while the plant life turned into sand. It did, however, give the whole setting that noir feeling everyone was looking for.

Robert Kennedy Junior slept through day one. That was what saved him. Luck, it seemed, was the beginnings of the makings of a hero; a hero who would survive longer than anyone else and become a legend. His name would be forgotten, but his new name whispered all across the highways…The Zombie Slayer.

Survival…

A zombie snorted and rooted around a high rise apartment. He found a bag of Cheetos with a triumphant yell, glared at them for several seconds, and then snorted and tossed them over his shoulder. He continued to snort and grunt doing a great imitation of a pig as he rooted around for food. The suite was so filthy and covered in garbage that the zombie never had a chance in heck to find the sole occupant of the room, clutching his Wii remote and buried under pillows and sofa cushions as he snored deliriously and tried to get rid of the hangover he had the night before.

Robert Kennedy Junior was fat, lazy, and a computer geek. How he would become the greatest survivor ever known is a complete mystery to everyone.

***

My eyes flickered open and gazed upon the dim screen of my widescreen television. The character on the jeep blinked on and off and then shorted out. I could see someone had ripped apart my cable TV line behind the massive bulk of the screen. I cursed violently and threw off the cushions. My apartment had been trashed, not that it wasn’t already. My landlord was going to go psycho about the holes in the walls. Damn friends. I wish they weren’t as violent as harpies. For some bizarre reason I was attracted to the flickering of curtains on the wall. I looked out the window and gasped. My heart sank as I gazed across the street. The Target store had been completely wasted. There goes my chance to get the new X-box game. There was also apparently a massive traffic accident and everyone had fled the scene.

I pulled on my socks and poured myself a coffee. I covered my mouth while I yawned.

Survival Tip #1: Find Guns.

As I strolled outside intending to walk to work and become late, I began to get a weird feeling. The kind of feeling you get when everyone in an entire city has fled because of a zombie apocalypse. I shrugged off the feeling until it became too real. The hot dog guy on the corner wasn’t there. There was always a hot dog guy on the corner. It was a damn law of the universe and was completely immutable unless. “Everyone is dead.”

I sat around in the city for a few weeks eating free food until other survivors started to come back because they, too, were hungry. That’s when I saw the first of the zombies.

They looked like everyone else, except incredibly ugly, slow, and stupid. They also tried to eat everyone in sight and soon the food supplies were exhausted. That’s when I knew I had to find guns.

I stared down at my reflection in a piece of broken glass. I was still fat, but my legs had thickened with the strenuous activity of walking all over. I still wore my earphones and various technological devices even though the batteries had died out on them all. I had absolutely no interest in guns, but all of the survivors wanted them, so I figured they’d be good to trade for food. I smashed the lock on the gun case with a hammer and took all the machine guns, rifles, and ammo they had in stock. The bazooka was a little heavy, but I tossed it in the back of the car under the flamethrower.