Refuge: Tales from a Zombie Apocalypse
by Anthea Strezze
Copyright © 2012 Anthea Strezze
The Trouble With Wishes
Refuge: Tales from a Zombie Apocalypse
For the author's blog, visit https://antheastrezze.com/blog/.
The following is a work of fiction, and all names, places, characters and events are products of the author's imagination or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real locales, events, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Dedicated to my ever-supportive, ever-patient, and ever-beloved Brian, and to Triel, who provided feline supervision for the writing of these stories.
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Henry
Monsters
Dreamtime
Thou Shalt Not Kill
Corpse Pose
A Time to Laugh
Life Goes On
More Titles by Anthea Strezze
About the Author
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Henry
Verity leaned against the wall and took a deep breath of the cool morning air.
It was crowded inside the old parish hall, even with the town's population decimated by the new flu. Everyone left alive was gathered there, doing what they could to help each other, even an old woman like her with bad knees. In a few minutes, she would go back to helping serve breakfast, but for now it was nice to have a moment to herself. A moment to push back the tears that kept threatening to surface. She wouldn't be the only one crying, if she gave in, but she'd feel guilty, crying for one old man when so many others were dead too.
She was about to push away from the wall when a familiar, impossible, figure in the street caught her eye. "Henry?" she called, her heart suddenly pounding like it would beat its way out of her body. Her breath caught in her throat and she leaned back against the wall, one hand against her chest.
"Verity? Are you all right?"
It was Silvia again. Normally Verity would brush her off and resent her for hovering, but this time she welcomed the young widow's steadying hand. "H-Henry," she said, pointing.
Silvia didn't bother to look, trying instead to coax her inside. "It can't be Henry, dear. Now why don't you come inside and sit down. We don't want to lose you too."
"But look!" He might be walking more stiffly than usual, but it was Henry, her Henry, coming down the street just as if he hadn't been laid out in the high school gym with the other dead three days ago.
Finally Silvia glanced over, and then did a double-take that turned her whole body around. "It can't be," she whispered. "Edgar," she called, turning back to the open door. "Edgar!"
The panic in her shout brought more people spilling out of the hall, all of whom froze at the sight of the figures shambling slowly down the street.
"Zombies," one of the teenagers said, his voice trembling.
"Everybody inside, now! We can barricade the doors and windows, and keep them out." Edgar started pushing people back inside, even as more tried to get out to see what was going on. "Get inside! Now!"
"Henry," Verity whispered. She pushed herself away from the wall and paused to make sure she was steady on her feet, then sidled to the edge of the crowd. She moved slowly, trying not to catch anyone's attention. The others wouldn't understand, and wouldn't allow what she was planning if they realized it.
She worked her way out to the teenagers who were standing a few feet down the walk, staring at the oncoming figures and talking softly amongst themselves. "Go on in now," she said firmly, patting the nearest boy's arm. "They'll need you inside. Go on."
The boys exchanged looks, but didn't move until Edgar shouted at them. "Get in here! We need a defensible position, not empty heroics!"
A month ago, they might have ignored him, but Edgar had been the glue that kept their community together when the flu hit, making sure the sick and shellshocked were taken care of instead of leaving them to die on their own, or waiting for someone else to step in.
A someone else who still hadn't come.
The boys still hesitated, but with an extra nudge from Verity, they started moving.
So did Verity, but in the opposite direction. She had heard all about zombies, back before the flu. She had even enjoyed some of the movies. She knew what everyone was thinking, but this was the real world, not a movie. And that was Henry, her Henry.
Even if the price of holding him one more time was her life, she was more than willing to pay it.
She walked briskly down the street, ignoring the shouts behind her and the arthritis in her knees with equal determination.
Henry had stopped moving, and seemed to be watching her come. There were others on the street, too, but she only had eyes for him. "Oh, Henry," she said when she reached him at last. She didn't hesitate, just slipped her arms around him, resting her head against his chest.
Cold arms wrapped around her, and she was home.