Evan – Facing the Zombie Apocalypse

by on Aug.12, 2011, under Syndicated from the Web

Reposted from Rotting Flesh Radio | Go to Original Post

by: RFR Casket Crew Denise

Evan, a balding man in his mid 40s, sat in his living room, drinking beer, watching the evening news. It was hot. Sweat trickled down his temples. Grabbing the brown stained napkin from the end table, Evan ran it across his reddened face.

Stay Tuned...Zombie Alerts

Stay Tuned…Zombie Alerts

“Damn,” he said climbing out of the Lazy Boy recliner. Pulling up his boxers, he walked to the air condition controller flipping the lever to the left, cranking down the temperature. Stumbling to the refrigerator, Evan grabbed another beer and ran it across his sweaty chest before popping the top.

Juliet slammed the kitchen door and yelled hysterically for Evan.

*Damn that woman, she’s such a drama queen.* Evan clicked the mute button, looking toward the kitchen in disgust.

“In here, honey,” he called as pleasantly as he could manage.

Juliet rushed into the living room looking frazzled, gripping her store bags closely to her chest. Her graying hair poke out at weird angles. She looked as if she had been in a Chicago wind storm.

“They’re coming!” she exclaimed.

“Who’s coming?”

“The zombies!” Juliet wailed dropping the packages onto the green shag carpet.

“Zombies? Woman, you’re not making any sense.”

Evan had been married to Juliet for 25 years and had never seen his wife this crazed before. *She’s talking about zombies. She’s finally lost it.*

“Juliet, there’s no such thing. Calm the hell down woman, you’re talking nonsense,” Evan said trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

“Screw you, Evan,” Juliet said picking up the remote. “Does this sound like nonsense?” She turned to the TV and voices flooded the room.

On the glowing screen, a representative from the CDC was standing before a wooden podium addressing more than a dozen reporters. The reporters held out their microphones and recorders capturing what the man said. Evan looked at his wife as she stared at the screen and saw she was crying. Tears streaked down her face leaving white tracks where make-up had once been.

Evan clicked off the TV.

“What the hell are you doing?” Juliet questioned. “Give me the remote.” Juliet gestured for the black box but Evan jerked it away from her.

“Woman, you’re talking crazy. This is a joke. It’s all one big joke.” Evan picked the newspaper off the floor but kept the remote out of Juliet’s reach. “What time is dinner?” he asked nonchalantly without looking up from the paper.

“They’re here Evan!” Juilet screamed jerking the paper out of his hands. She gripped his arms, digging her nails into his flesh.

“Ouch!” Evan exclaimed, “Goddammit woman, you’ve watched too many horror movies! They aren’t real!”

“They’re are! You saw the TV report. They’re coming. I even saw one.” Juliet gasped as soon as she said the words, digging her nails deeper in Evan’s arm. Evan shook her off.

“It was probably some homeless bum. Trust me, Juliet, there ain’t no zombies.”

With that, Evan retreated to the bathroom with the newspaper. No doubt about it, his wife was bat-shit crazy. That is until she turned into a zombie. After that, Evan stopped thinking.


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