Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Flash Fiction - The torch - Chuck Wendig Challenge

Here is my entry to the Chuck Wendig Flash Fiction Challenge 'The Torch'
I don't usually write about zombies and spy bots but seeing as its my first entry I thought I'd throw in a few to keep Chuck sweet!

Clive, the z's and me

Sweat was flowing down my forehead stinging my eyes and blinding me. The heat from the glow sword was almost unbearable. Clive was twisted in his genius. He gave you a sword samurai sharp to defend yourself but he added to it a fluorescent bar to attract the zombies. In a pitch black arena the light and the fresh smell of blood oozing from the back of my head kept their attention. The wound was throbbing and the sweat was making it sting. It was good though, the pain kept you alert. Clive knew what he was doing the fat bastard.
The Zombie Games, in the Zombatorium, remove the head or destroy the brains.
Me against five. They were closing in on me.
They moved slowly, in a straight line towards me. I was faster and more agile but they were strong, focused and there were five of them. Did I mention that?
The people out there in the blackness were absolutely silent. Z’s are not well trained circus animals; they’ll chase anything with a pulse.
I needed to separate them to have any chance of escape. Escape huh. Nobody’s escaped the Zombatorium yet. Snap! A bright flash momentarily blinded us.
Clive! Photographing me? I couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to believe it. I took a chance and ran to the edge of the zombies where one man (white male, early forties) was dragging his right leg, it was slowing him down. The sound of him breathing reminded me of dishwater sucking down the plughole. I swung the sword high and severed his head from his shoulders. Neatly tossing it into the face of the old crone beside him. She staggered backwards and fell face first on to the blood soaked saw dust. It would take her approximately ten minutes to get standing again. How do I know this? Because this is the kind of useful information you pick up when you are married to Clive master of the Zombie Games.
The crowd cheered when I got Zombie 1 down, they laughed when Z- crone chewed the floor. The noise acted as distraction, the remaining z’s turned their heads slowly from side to side registering the sound but all the while staring at me with those milky blank eyes. I walked slowly putting the old crone struggling on the sawdust between me and the other z’s.
Two of the zombies watched the sword; they were young when they were infected, teenagers, brothers maybe. I could tell they had been infected a long time from their sluggish responses. I watched them watching the sword; they didn’t see where they were going and fell over Z - crone on the ground. The crowd roared. The last zombie, the one I was most cautious of approaching was a young woman in a nurse’s uniform. It was spotless. She was probably infected only a few hours, she still retained some brain function, enough to side step the old crone crawling around on her knees. She was not looking at the glow sword like the others but at the area of shadow and light next to it that was me.
I raised the sword to strike; she stepped back and to the side, drawing me towards the others, clever girl. All three were crawling on their hands and knees towards me having giving up on the complicated task of standing upright again.
She was going to let the others take me down and join afterwards. She had a plan.
The darkness smothered me, my head ached, the sword was very heavy and cumbersome to use. I had to keep an eye on the nurse. Goddamit! Where was she? Beautifully manicured nails on a lightly tanned arm grabbed my hand and tried to shove it between artificially white even teeth. Argh! I struggled and somehow managed to swing the sword close enough to cut her hand off, the other three were close behind, I could smell their putrid stench hunting me down. I shook off her severed arm and swung again. This time the sword glanced off her skull hacking out her left eye. It bobbed up and down on a grey slick tendril like some sort of eyeball yoyo. She staggered drunkenly spinning slightly so she was facing the audience. Snap! Spy bot flash. Clive you bastard. He’d timed the flash so she could see all the people sitting in the dark trapped like steak on a barbeque.
She lurched towards them. Like I said she still had some brain function, they were unarmed and there were an awful lot of them to choose from. I took a step forwards, but then I stopped dead in my tracks. Those bastards had paid to see me attacked they were getting what they deserved. The old crone was so slow now; I never understood why Clive used her in these games. Perhaps he still felt some loyalty to his mother. If I killed her he’d definitely have to get rid of me. Wait! Isn’t that what this is about?
People were clambering into the arena to get away from Z- nurse. Jerky body movements and glazed eyes marked the ones who had just been bitten. I held on to my sword. Its brightness wasn’t such a zombie attraction anymore. Z- crone was closing in on a man jittering on the sawdust. I raised my sword and decapitated my mother in law. Come on you’d do it too if you could.
Snap! Spy bot flash as I picked up her head and swung it up in the air at the closest spy bot. Old Ma made a direct hit, the spy bot blades scattered pink pulp all over the sawdust. I ducked to escape the worst of the Mom shower.
Z - nurse was chomping her way through the men cornered in the stalls. Clive is creating a zombie army. The thought struck me like the wrench he’d used earlier on my head.
I’ve got to stop him.

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