So this little YA story was originally posted on my Tumblr, but since that Tumblr has since been brutally deleted so that I would actually do something with my life aside from reblog pictures of cats, it ceased to exist online. Until now, when I decided this blog was sad and empty and needed more posts on it, especially some free read type things. (Another, longer story will likely be coming some time next week.) It was originally spawned by a prompt on stayintheroom on dreamwidth, which listed the words magazine, silo, fever, carriage, bully, graffiti, and epidemic and said to use three in a story. I, because I am an overachiever used all seven.
So, without further ado, here is OUTBREAK!, a zombie YA comedy ficlet.
Milo has an axe and no emotional grip on his present situation.
Oh, he knows he’s about to be devoured by the risen corpse of a schoolyard bully—Bret Mitchells, who is possibly even bigger and uglier when he’s been reanimated by a virus that has swept across the nation like Bieber Fever only with more ravenous zombies—he just hasn’t emotionally accepted it, yet.
“I still haven’t kissed a girl,” Milo says, as Bret closes in on him. “I just want you to know you’re taking that life experience from me.” Bret curls his lips back from his teeth and drools some more. It’s both unattractive and terrifying. “And I definitely never got the chance to steal my dad’s awesome car so I could have sex in the back. So just … consider what you’re doing here.”
Bret looks decidedly unaffected. Unless you count “ravenous hunger for Milo’s brains” as an effect, in which case, Bret has that covered. Milo’s really smart. His brains are probably delicious. Curse the AP classes he took that made him such delicious zombie fodder! This never would have happened to him if he’d taken remedial math.
Milo’s trapped against a grain silo on the edge of town—getting as far away as possible from populated areas seemed like a good idea until he had to go mano-a-mano with a zombie on a farm with no one remotely nearby to save him—and the wall behind him is decorated with graffiti dicks, so no part of his death is going to be dignified.
“I was supposed to grow up and be on the cover of Science,” Milo says, as Bret closes in on him—curse his propensity for skipping gym classes that has left him puny and entirely incapable of wielding an axe effectively against a member of the undead. “Or maybe TIME magazine. Honestly, I wasn’t going to be picky as long as it was the cover.”
Bret shambles closer—close enough that Milo can smell his rancid breath.
“Alright.” Milo hefts the axe in his hands. “Just you and me.”
As Milo prepares for his first swing though, he hears someone shout “Kowabunga, mother fucker!” followed by the thundering sound of horses sprinting and before Milo can even react, an actual horse-drawn carriage rounds the corner and brutally crushes Bret beneath a combination of hoofs and wheels.
Milo looks up and sees Mason holding the reins.
“You just ran him over with a horse-drawn carriage,” Milo says, because he is very intelligent but not above stating the obvious under the influence of total shock.
“Yep,” Mason says, dropping the reins and hopping down.
“Why didn’t you hit him with … a car or something?”
“I don’t know how to drive a car.” Mason walks over to Milo then stops in front of him. “And my mom said Junior Rodeo would never pay off! Well guess who just saved the day with fucking horses, Mom!”
“Yeah, that actually was pretty awesome.”
Mason smiles at him. “Also, I can’t help you with your girl kissing problem, but I could kiss you. I think you even kind of owe me since I saved your life.”
Milo just stares at a Mason for a minute, trying to figure out if he’s being serious, or just being Mason. Finally he says, “Okay, sure. Why not.”