Thursday, November 29, 2012

P.U.R.E. Adrenaline


Colonel Marissa Sanchez had been a 22-year old barista the day the whole world went to hell and people started eating other people. It all seemed unreal, until the undead bastards swarmed her flyspeck hometown and started noshing on her friends and family. She headed for Dallas the next morning with the clothes on her back and a thirst for retribution.

Now, two years later, she was a battle-hardened veteran of the Peoples’ Undead Resistance Expedition (P.U.R.E.). In that time, they had taken care of her needs both physical and visceral quite nicely. 

P.U.R.E Intel usually sucked and she didn’t expect any better this time but she’d seen living proof. The deadheads were leaving survivors behind. Nobody knew why but if that was the case here, her teams were to find and evacuate them.

Disturbingly, they’d also started leaving “sleepers” behind. More than one unit had been lost finding a couple dozen undead playing possum amidst the scattered bodies. Marissa would not allow that to happen here.

Rounding a corner, they ghosted forward with no resistance and no results. From her left, Marissa winced as she heard a meaty thunk. Turning, she saw Horatio “Tiny” Masters had just separated a head from a body with the enormous double-bitted axe he carried.

With an embarrassed shrug, he whispered, “Thought he was eyein’ me funny. I just wanted to be sure.”

With a sigh of exasperation, Marissa motioned him back into position and continued on. It was gonna be a long night.



This story was written for the weekly Thursday Threads flash fiction challenge for the prompt phrase, "I just wanted to be sure."

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