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A zombie apocalypse with a twist of Native American Lore.
It all began from a sequence of events so absurd, complicated and uncommon as to be unbelievable but an ancient Hopi Pueblo Prophecy predicted a time when the...
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Until I Find You
Two Black Hawk helicopters reverberated in the dark sky above Seth. He could see that they were headed towards the low hanging orange glow over the distant ridgeline. He clenched his teeth and kept walking, refusing his better judgement to go back, knowing the consequences would be deadly if the wildfires in the distance took a turn toward his route.
His truck had run out of gas just before reaching Monticello, fifty long miles away from Moab. He had gone that way hoping to cap off his tank before heading to Salt Lake City, and when his engine started to sputter, he pulled off the road and left his truck. He had his backpack and his AR slung over his shoulder. Sweat dripped from his forehead and ran down his face mixing with the dust from the road and turned to grimy rivers that ran down his back and plastered his t-shirt to his body like a wet glove.
Still, he trudged on, mindless of the heat and the extra weight of his clothing. He had been wearing a flimsy medical mask but he had thrown it off on the road miles back, just so he could get a breath with out gasping. He tried not to think of Haven, but her face haunted his thoughts. He would have told her, but she would have never let him come alone.
The condition of his mother weighed on his mind with every step he took, but not knowing if she was dead, alive or in trouble pushed him on.
By high noon Seth had exhausted himself. He was only as far as Moab. He stopped at a carwash on the outskirts of town and tried to remember where Deaglan's house was, thinking he could go there for a while and rest. He had been there once, years ago, when Nathan had paid him to help Deag's family move, plus it was closer than his apartment. He grabbed a water hose located at the back of the business letting what little water was left dribble over his head to cool off.
He wiped water from his face and watched as a military detachment rolled slowly by on the highway. Too bad they weren't going in his direction he thought lamely.
He dribbled a little more water over his head and held the hose to his mouth trying to catch a few drips of water on his tongue. He closed his eyes relishing the cool dribble, ignoring the random gunfire in the distance and the riotous screams of looters, feeling somewhat safe hiding behind the carwash when he felt himself forcefully pushed to the ground from behind.
He instinctively lashed back jerking himself around screaming a gutteral curse and looked into the bloodied, teeth of a man and two women.
They fell upon him with rabid fury, teeth snapping anger, their hands reaching blindly, grabbing and scratching at his face. Seth felt the rip of his own skin and the fear induced screams that had been lodged in his throat broke free. The smell of their bloody breath choked his senses, his own breath gasping for release from the rancid odor.
He fought back even as he felt teeth clamp onto his shin, and he screamed as their blood stained hands struggled to bring his arms into their deadly bite. Seth grabbed the one directly above him by the throat, and fought to release his other arm from the grasp of the women but he could not withstand the strength or desire of their hunger. He finally broke free with his right leg, brought up his knee knocking the man off and into the two women, jerked his arm from their clawing fingers and rolled away scrambling to grasp the earth and pull himself free kicking the one from his shin in the face. It's head jerked backwards but it fell forward and it scrambled closer, not to be deterred from the flesh it so ravenously craved. Seth kicked it again and rolled away panting for air.
