A collection of zombie-inspired works, told through over-lapping story arcs, penned by new and seasoned WP writers!
#TeamClassic
#TeamFantasy
#TeamVoodoo
#TeamEcrivain
#TeamInsidesAndEntrails
A dense cloud of dust veiled the sky, the sun scraping through with timid fingers, hesitant to announce a new day to come. A few columns of smoke swirling up to the other side of the hill, a few kilometers away, gave her some hope. There might be someone living, someone human, amidst the wrecks of that city... or it's just another desolated city.
Intuition has always worked well for Rosario. She sighed, her lips curving up slightly, while studying the kind she she'd drawn relying on visual memory and with a little bit of information read in that old encyclopedia she was was fortunate to find in an abandoned school, like all the schools in the country at this point. Turning her watch into a compass, the way she learned in the ARMY,I was the best thing she could do, henceforth navigating flatlands is tougher than anyone estimates. Having no natural, neither any other geographic point of reference, makes it even more difficult to track, to follow a path.
"Well, let's roll down this hill to see what we get there... hopefully no more z's", Rosario spoke to herself as she gripped her machete, swung it a bit ninja style and tilted her way down the hill.
The birds chirped, perched on the trees and she was glad it was finally spring. Being native of a tropical island, getting two winters on a row without shelter after the outbreak, had been too much for Rosario, who's better acquainted with the sand and dunes, camel spiders and scorpions in Iraq, than with the white mid-plains in the northern States. Only one thing was sure and that is, all what she learned in boot camp, she'd put in practice, and to extremes levels, after the hecatomb took place.
Spring brought with it fresh fruits to harvest, plenty of rabbits to hunt, and fresh running water to drink and fish. However, thawing put an end to the z's hibernating season. The closer you got to the poles, the safer you were, if you were able to make it. Humans were not less adapted to sub-zero temperatures than these mutants were.
The sound of dry twigs braking to her left, made her stop. Machete in hand, the woman turned to find she was not alone anymore. "Son of a bitch.m", she snorted, veering to her left to face the starting- to-rotten figure of a man, standing about twenty feet away. His barely ragged clothes, looking even cleaner than hers, told her this one was a most dangerous one. A fledgling.
Immediately, she scanned the place around to make sure there were no other zombies around. Mutants have learned to hunt in packs, like wolves, but this was not the case. "Just a loner like me", Rosario straightened her back and squared her tanned, slightly muscle-built shoulders, grounding one leg in front of the other while gripping the rustic blade up to her chest, on guard.
