The Last Man on Earth
Back to writing eight-minute writing exercises. I was rather ill all of last week and didn’t get any writing done that’s worth mentioning. Today’s prompt: The Last Man on Earth. I got about 376 words, but I went a little over time because I had to get to Ed.
Hey, Toots!
Most of the movies got it wrong. For one, a head shot didn’t necessarily kill a zombie. Take the head completely off? That’d work, but a bullet or knife all by itself? Not usually. The zombies were also fast, strong, and clever. They hunted in packs, and you needed to stay downwind of them if you didn’t want to get sniffed out.
Judith fled. The others fled as well. Stan was nearby, breathing hard, great raspy breaths. Alice cried as she ran. Others shouted. Expletives. Words of encouragement. Someone shrieked and shrieked and then stopped shrieking. Judith didn’t look back to see who it was.
“There!” Phil yelled, pointing to the left. “The school!”
Judith turned just as a zombie lunged for her. She could feel its fingers scrape down her leg, but it couldn’t get a grip on the denim. Phil was in the lead. He hit the door, slamming to a halt, and then pulled hard. The door opened, and Phil was inside. Judith caught the door before it closed. She paused, looked back. At least twenty zombies charged toward the school. Half of the group was done, being torn apart by fingernails and teeth. The screams. Judith would hear those screams again in her nightmares.
“Move! Move!” she shouted, pushing Stan as he staggered into the door jamb.
The engine’s roar announced the truck’s arrival. It was a big pick-up. A farmer’s truck, and it slammed through a pack of zombies, crushing bones and pulverizing muscle. The vehicle fishtailed across the street. The driver gunned the engine, and the truck surged forward. Another zombie caught the front grill in the back and went down under the tires. Judith stood transfixed. Alice ran past her into the school. She was still crying.
A few short seconds later, the truck skidded to a halt just a few yards away from Judith. The driver’s side window was down. Ed grinned at her, a toothpick clenched between his hairy jaws.
“Hey, toots!” Ed said, his eyes crawling down her body. “You remember when you said you wouldn’t go out with me even if I was the last man on earth?”
Judith rolled her eyes, stepped into the school, and pulled the door shut. Some things never changed.
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