part 1
rememberance
Stan Andrews silently walked the streets of downtown chicago looking for a place to sleep. Behind him he heard a low growl and drew his shotgun. A zombie stood in front of him. It was covered in blood and had a tremendously long tongue. Well arent you pretty, stan thought. The zombie charged at him, but Stan did not panick. He had learned that in the zombie apocolypse, that panic meant death. The zombie was three feet away now. Stan pumped the shot gun and fired at the creatures stomach.
Blood and organs spilled out. As the zombie looked up, its intestiens began to fall out.
" Eat this fuckface." Stan said. He unloaded a second slug into the things face. Stan crouched over the zombie and searched it. He found fifty cents. What luck. Stan thought, as he looked toward a soda dispenser on his right. He walked over and checked if it was still working. Damn, he thought, waste of money. It was still working so he put the money in and selected a mountain dew.
He gratefully twirled the cap off and took a big long sip. Then he began to walk down the street again llooking for shelter. Then it started to pour down rain. But Stan had found a likely looking apartment building. He walked in, checked the perimiter, when he was satisfied that it was safe, he layed his sleeping bag down, started a fire, and cooked the squirrel he had shot earlier.
Then, he cudled with his shotgun, and drifted into an uneasy sleep.
........
It was July, 19th, 2000. Stan Andrews was ten years old.
