I was disappointed and excited when the Walking Dead started. It meant zombies would become more main stream and that someone beat me to what I ultimately wanted: a zombie television series.
Now there are a couple and another would just be overkill but Mad World isn't really about zombies but more about the insane and 'mad' world that followed the zombie apocalypse.
So now I plan on turning it into a small serial book series. Fingers crossed.
Reynolds ran up to the edge of the clearing and fired two quick shots.
One shot ripped open the neck of the man holding the woman down on her left.
The other bullet pulverized the back of the man’s skull on the woman’s right.
The man with his pants down standing over the woman could not turn around fast enough.
Three bullets, center mass sprayed blood and gore over the screaming woman. Reynolds ran up to the lifeless body and yanked it back before it could fall on the woman.
“Are there others,” Reynolds asked. He shot one round into the man with the spurting neck wound.
She did not reply. Drenched in blood she was looking back and forth at her dead attackers.
“Are there any others,” Reynolds asked again. He scanned the trees around the clearing.
He hadn’t heard any yells or stomping through the area.
“Come on,” He said as he tried to help her up.
“What?!” She snapped out of her shock.
“If there were others they would’ve heard the gunshots and would be on their way
back,” he explained. “Now come on.”
She shook her head.
“Fine,” he said. He turned away from her and left her in the clearing.
“No wait,” she said.
“No time,” he said. “You refuse to tell me if there were others so you either come with me or I leave you here.”
The woman looked at the bodies around her. She got to her feet.
Reynolds ducked under a bush and retrieved his a large backpack and shoulder bag.
He rummaged through the top compartment on the backpack.
Retrieving a small pack of wet wipes he handed them to the woman.
“Clean your face and hands,” he said. “I have a clean shirt and jacket you can wear.”
The woman opened the pack of wipes and removed a few.
She began scrubbing her face and hands.
“Did I get it all,” she asked.
Reynolds smiled and shook his head.
She had a circle of blood outlining her sunburned face.
“Here,” Reynolds said.
He handed her a makeup compact.
She opened it. The mirror was intact but the makeup was long gone. She looked at herself in the mirror.
“Not really my color but I guess it will work,” she said.
“Better than blood and guts red.”
The woman began wiping the blood from around her face.
“Were you alone out there,” Reynolds asked.
He had been on the road for about eight days and she was the first person he had to save. Nowadays it was weird seeing anyone on the road out alone.
Everyone had settled.
If the zombies didn’t bite and turn them in the beginning.
If the skinners didn’t catch and eat them after the zombi es.
And if the insane and degenerates didn’t outright kill what was left.
The remaining people have settled and were trying to make a go in this mad world.
“No,” she said. “They killed my brothers.”
“Brothers?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Guthrie,” she said. “We had ran out of food in Agra.”
“Agra?” Reynolds asked. “It survived the fires?”
Zombies decimated the cities while fires decimated the smaller towns.
During the first and second dry summers the night horizons all around were lit orange and red with the massive wildfires that burned much of Oklahoma.
“Barely,” she said. “We were hold up in the Agra High School. It’s was an all metal building and the flames got close but didn’t do any damage.”
“You were there this whole time?”
“Until we ran out of food, supplies, people,”
“People?”
“We sent out a people to search for supplies and they never came back,”
“Zombies get em?”
“No,” she said.
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