A Pound of Flesh: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse by Shawn Chesser

then took the path of least resistance
plummeting onto her knee-length black shorts. The tats on her well
defined biceps moved as she worked, the demons and skulls seemingly
alive. As she stared at the heat mirages performing their ethereal
dance outside on the tarmac an inane thought crossed her mind. Trapped at work during a zombie outbreak and in the middle of
the worst heat wave in fifteen years — good going Taryn .
    Braided hair now coiled in a bun—so Dickless
or Karen or one of the many nameless creatures lurking below would
have one less thing to grab onto—Taryn cracked the door and craned
her neck to assess the situation below.
    Either gunned down by airport security or
torn apart and consumed by the lifeless mob, the bullet-riddled
bodies and piles of bloody remnants which were formerly human posed
a gory minefield Taryn would be forced to navigate.
    The yellow Subway sign beckoned from the far
end of the terminal. The only food option in the airport, save for
the gift store, had been positioned where the building took a
slight bend so that passengers waiting to board and people meeting
arrivals would have equal access without having to overwork the
security personnel by going to and fro. With over two hundred
flights daily, ninety percent of them private planes and
helicopters, GJT, the moniker given the airport by the Federal
Aviation Administration, had been a hopping little place.
    A thin trail of saliva escaped the corner of
the teen’s parched lips. All she could think about was a veggie
foot long on wheat. Earthy tasting bean sprouts, cool ripe
tomatoes, crisp green bell peppers, and red onions. No cheese for
this vegan please, oil and vinegar... what’s the point? Hell I’ll
take three white chocolate and macadamia nut cookies. Better yet
six and a forty-four ounce pop.
    Taryn , a little voice informed, you
don’t drink pop.
    “The hell I don’t.” Startled by her own
voice, she returned to reality just a little freaked out by the
vivid food fantasy. Boys—certainly, she daydreamed about the boys
of Denver State often in between making iced Americanos, blended
Frappuccino’s and Caramel Macchiatos, all the while feigning
amusement in the random musings of the annoying travelers passing
through her line.
    Slumping, back to the wall, she let her body
slide down until she sat on her haunches. “ I’m on my way honey.
Be ready. I’ll pick you up outside of Chester’s post.” Those
were the last words her dad had uttered. She looked at her phone
wondering if anything had changed. Was the ringer on? Taryn came to
the realization that she was slowly losing it and that her
overexuberant wellspring of hope was quickly running dry.
     

Chapter 11
    Outbreak - Day 11
    Schriever AFB
    Colorado Springs, Colorado
     
    Waking up and realizing the handwritten note
was missing from the table and that Cade was already gone had been
the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back.
    The paragraph of no more than fifty words had
simply asked him to wake her before he deployed. The fact that he
hadn’t honored her one tiny request triggered something inside of
her, and like a Jack-in-the Box whose jester had been replaced by
something demonic, she snapped.
    Still shocked and confused, a crestfallen
Brook escorted Raven in total silence to Annie’s quarters. As Brook
trudged on, embarrassed beyond belief by her actions, she performed
a sort of mental inventory—searching for an answer to her
outburst.
    Instead of acting out in front of her very
impressionable soon-to-be twelve-year-old she wished she would have
harnessed all of the pent up negative emotion to wield against the
dead.
    She wondered whether the anger and blind rage
she had exhibited had actually stemmed from stuffing the emotions
brought on by Carl’s murder, or if it was from the creeping
feelings of abandonment that grew stronger each time her man went
on one of his missions. In her heart she hoped it was the former
and not the latter. The