Jack reined his horse to a stop at the border and looked past the barbed-wire fence at the grassy plain beyond. The zombies were miles back. Though they staggered haltingly at the best of times, Jack knew they could cover a lot of ground in little time. He’d seen the movies. Didn’t matter how fast the hero ran…

But thinking negatively like that was heading down a dead-end road. Much like the dead-end road he was on now. There was no way the horse would make it through the yards of prickly metal he faced. Jack looked right and left – there wasn’t a border crossing guard to be seen.

He walked a few feet to his left and looked down. Just as he thought. Zombie poo. They’ve been here already, Jack mumbled to himself.


Jack’s horse snorted.

“Not you, Trigger,” he assured his mighty steed.

He was loathe to leave the beast to its own devices and make a break for it himself. Especially when he knew the zombies didn’t enjoy horse brains very much. The ungrateful monsters.

Jack took one more look left and right and mounted his horse.

“Let’s keep going, Trigger. Surely we’ll find a house somewhere with wire cutters. Even if we have to double back a bit.”

Trigger neighed.

“I know, old buddy. I know,” said Jack.

Author’s note: Until October the 31st, I’m going to use this space to create possible beginnings for my 2016 NaNoWriMo project. Feedback is welcome.

3 thoughts on “Zombieland

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