Ever wonder what authors would do in the case of a zombie apocalypse? For the next several weeks, I’ll be posting the answers to that question on my blog…
This week, up and coming author Laurie Crookell weighs in on her zombie apocalypse survival plan.
WHEN ZOMBIES COME TO TOWN
Warwick Castle. Warwickshire, England. 2018.
The castle’s walls rise from the ground like oversized tombstones. Majestic towers guard each corner, as if giant knights carved from stone. An entrance way beckons, the drawbridge extended like a hand of greeting. I stroll into the courtyard, where overgrown rose gardens soften the harsh, stone walls.
Thunderous clouds loom overhead. Lightning bolts flash through the sky. Gnashing teeth clatter. Are prisoners still languishing in the dungeons? I glance about. Augghhhhhh!
Zombies! Everywhere. Clawing at me. Grasping for my limbs. Has the apocalypse arrived? Blood oozes down the zombies’ decomposing faces, their matted hair hanging like rats’ tails dripping in sludge. The stench of rotting flesh and putrefied skunk spray rushes up my nose. The zombies moan. Low. Deep. Guttural. Spine-shivering.
Fear slithers through my body, squeezing my insides with gut-wrenching dread. My heart plunges, thumping to the erratic rhythm of panic and fear. Thud-thud. Thump. Thud-thud-thud. Pound. My heart flips inside out.
I run, feet hammering the ground, my brain racing like a Formula One race car. What am I going to do? How do I get rid of zombies? They didn’t teach that in Economics 101. Help, I’ve never even seen a zombie movie. Quick. Think. Wait, that’s it. My long legs! I can outrun and out-climb those zombies any day. To the towers!
The zombies surge forward, their ragged clothing flapping against their limbs. I run even faster. The nearest turret rises before me. I scramble through the open four-foot thick, wooden door, pushing it shut behind me. Thud. Clunk. I bolt the door, metal clanking on metal, as the bolt slides into place.
A spiral staircase swirls to the top. I sprint up the turret stairs, two at a time. Up and up, whirling around in a dizzying coil. My sneakers grip the worn, stone steps. Sunlight filters in through narrow slits along the turret walls. I pant. Beads of sweat drip down my face. I push myself upwards, only a few more stairs.
I reach the top, shove open the wooden door, and then bolt it shut behind me. Clank! I stroll to the edge and gaze out at the vista below. Emerald green grass, like velvety moss, stretches before me, masking the battles of historic times and drawing my attention away from the teeming zombies below.
I’m safe. At least, for now!
Nighttime flies in on raven’s wings. Black. Eerie. Ominous. Shadow’s twin, lurking, like a cloak over earth’s noble throne. Zombies gnash their teeth, while moving en mass against the turret door below. I slump to the cold, stone floor. Hunger sneaks in, my stomach churning. Does anyone deliver pizza this time of day? I pull out my cell phone and dial.
“Air delivery, please.”
A deafening crash echoes through the night. The zombies break through the first bolted door. The apocalypse at ground level has begun. Will my pizza arrive before the zombies?
Before long, a helicopter swirls overhead. A rope drops with a pizza box dangling on the end.
“Hey!” I holler. “Can I hitch a ride out of here?”
The pilot nods. I grab hold of the rope. The helicopter lifts up, its propellers whirring overhead. I hang on tight, swaying back and forth as I dangle midair. Zombies burst through the door and swarm onto the top of the turret.
I laugh. “So long, you zombie devils! My long legs will beat you every time.” I fly off into night’s ebony silk sky, luminescent stars twinkling over my victory. “Take that, you flesh-eating zombies! I win!”
BIO: Laurie Crookell is an up and coming writer, with 13 awards from provincial, national, and international writing competitions, along with 14 published newspaper and magazine articles. She hopes to soon land a publishing contract for her picture books and young adult novel, after which, perhaps she’ll write a movie script about zombies.