No tears for the dead (standard:horror, 2292 words)
Author: margisama	Added: Feb 15 2006	Views/Reads: 3329/2122	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Genevieve Bloughton is just another person trying to survive the zombie apocalypse...or is she?

No one knew what had set things in motion, they knew only what the
ultimate result of that unknown trigger had been; to the world and the 
people who had once inhabited it. She'd been far from television and 
radios when the end had arrived, and hadn't been privy to what she 
assumed must have been frantic news bulletins and evacuation orders. 
Sometimes when boredom set in-and boredom had, unfortunately, become 
her most frequent state of mind-she mulled over what sorts of theories 
and hypotheses the educated elite had put forth during those first few 
weeks to explain what was happening around them. Radiation, biological 
or chemical warfare, a natural virus...those were a few of the possible 
explanations that she thought seemed the most reasonable, but then 
again, people probably hadn't been satisfied with a reasonable 
explanation. What rational, natural process could cause the dead to 
return to life anyway? 

Knowing the number of conspiracy theorists out there, she wouldn't have
been surprised if more eccentric causes had been suggested as panic and 
desperation sat in. The religious fundamentalists had probably had a 
field-day before they'd been forced to worry about their own survival. 
In a way, she was grateful she hadn't had to deal with any of that- 
people ranting about it being God's punishment on a sinful world or the 
sci-fi crazies spouting equally ludicrous theories about hostile aliens 
causing the chaos so they could take over the world while humanity was 
distracted. 

In truth, she supposed it really didn't matter `how' it had all started
in the first place. Things were the way they were, and crying about it 
would be about as useless as sitting down and having an empty debate 
about the hows and whys of everything. 

The faint chirping of birds distracted her from her thoughts then, and
she lifted her head to gaze out the partially broken window she'd been 
crouching behind for what must have been several hours. The light 
filtering in from the outside world perked her interest, as well as the 
faint mist rising from the pavement. It had been dark when she'd broken 
into the building, and raining, but now it seemed the rain was over. 

Might as well move on since the sun was up, she decided, rising to her
feet and ignoring the creaking of her stiff limbs. She'd long since 
discovered that it was safer to travel during the day; there was far 
more of a chance of having a dangerous encounter at night, and she'd 
always liked to think of herself as a practical person-at least most of 
the time...there `had' been an instance or two when she'd demonstrated 
less than-impeccable intellect, but it wasn't like it was anything she 
could fix ‘now'. 

Sighing, she pulled open the battered door, pausing only a moment to
cast a brief glance over one shoulder. Not like abandoned hardware 
stores were luxury accommodations anyway. 

Leaving her temporary shelter behind, she made her way deeper into what
once had been a small, pleasant-looking town in the northeastern united 
states. She was relatively sure she was somewhere in upstate new York, 
but thusfar hadn't come to a town she was familiar with; having 
originally been from Massachusetts herself. Rather depressing if you 
stopped and allowed yourself to think about it for too long, the notion 
crossed her mind as she walked down the middle of what used to be the 
main street through the quaint hamlet. Granted, it was somewhat nice 
not to have to worry about being ran over by a speeding car or being 
forced to listen to the raucous, rude honking of irritated motorists, 
but if the trade-off for that convenience and peace was the empty 
streets littered with discarded newspapers and abandoned vehicles, and 
the rows of forlorn shops forever waiting for shoppers who were 
probably never coming back- she wasn't sure it was worth it, not at 
all. 

Abruptly, she came to a halt; nostrils flaring as she took in a scent
that seemed out of place in the empty-seeming town. Amid the fresh, 
clean smell of lingering rain and the first few flowers of spring that 
were already beginning to come up between the cracks of the ruined 
sidewalks, there was a taint of something nature had never 
produced-gunpowder. 

Suddenly on the alert, she chose her steps more cautiously now, moving
off of the main street and keeping to the sides of the deserted 


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