the windows had been smashed to pieces. He slowly stepped onto the porch and peered through a window.
He froze in place, horrified, and sweat began to pour from his forehead. The gun shook violently in his hand as his heartbeat penetrated his senses. What he saw was beyond any nightmare he could possibly imagine. He leaned closer to the window, a witness to unbelievable carnage and blood lust. Several undead were inside the Miller's dining room, devouring the entire Miller family, their bodies strewn everywhere.
The father lay sprawled across the table with his intestines draped across a freshly cooked roast beef dinner. An undead farmer was face-deep in his stomach, consuming his innards. The mother lay in the doorway on her face, ripped apart by an undead boy. The two young daughters lay next to the table, a tender buffet for three undead. And Allison Miller, Roses’ best friend, was in the kitchen, her half-eaten liver hanging from the mouth of the undead whore.
M arkley's jaw quivered in fear. He stepped back from window and slowly turned, ready to run away from this madness, but he stopped instantly when he saw an undead man on the porch in front of him, head cocked, eyeing him hungrily. Before he knew what was happening the undead lunged for his neck. Markley still had the pistol in his hand and he shoved it deep into the undead’s gut and fired three times, but nothing happened. The undead man bit into his shoulder and tore away a mouth-full of flesh. Markley pointed the pistol at its temple and fired the remaining three bullets, showering the porch with undead brain, and then ran back to the cart in a panic.
He leapt onto the cart and whipped the horses forward, steering wildly back toward town. He used one hand to hold the reins and clutched his shoulder with the other as blood ran down his arm. He could see the glowing lights of the small town in the distance and whipped the horses again, continuing to gain speed. As he turned onto Main Street, he overcorrected, and lost control of the cart. The horses broke free and the cart smashed into the front of the general store, throwing Markley forward out of the seat.
The Gunman heard the commotion and stepped from the boardwalk into the street. Cutler, Rose, Johnny and Mason all exited the saloon behind him, with several others in tow. The sound of the smashing cart had drawn them out of the saloon and they stared down the street, trying to figure out what had happened.
“ Oh my god!” Rose screamed when she saw Markley slumped over the front of the cart, not moving. She bolted toward him, followed closely by the others.
Markley tried desperately to push himself up, but stumbled, and fell from the cart and landed face-first in the dirt. Rose grabbed him and helped turn him over onto his back.
“What happened?” she asked him.
Markley spit blood into the dirt and held his gut. He had started to enter shock and couldn’t answer her.
Rose turned to the others, who just there stood watching. “Somebody help me!” she pleaded.
Johnny moved in and grabbed Markley’s arm.
“We need to take him inside,” she told him.
Johnny quickly inspected his injured shoulder. “He's bleeding real bad. He needs the doctor!”
Cutler stepped in and helped them get Markley to his feet. “ The doc is indisposed at the moment. Just help get him inside dammit.”
Rose and Johnny held Markley upright and started walking toward the saloon. As the Gunman looked on, considering the situation, and wondering what the hell had happened, something caught his eye at the far end of town, moving slowly down the road.
Three u ndead emerged from the darkness and shuffled toward them. Their clothes were ragged and torn, their teeth rotten black. Decaying skin hung loosely from their bones. He turned and pulled a revolver, cocked and ready, unsure of what to do.
Cutler could see them as well. “ What the hell?”
Before anybody could react, an undead man lunged onto Mason and bit
He froze in place, horrified, and sweat began to pour from his forehead. The gun shook violently in his hand as his heartbeat penetrated his senses. What he saw was beyond any nightmare he could possibly imagine. He leaned closer to the window, a witness to unbelievable carnage and blood lust. Several undead were inside the Miller's dining room, devouring the entire Miller family, their bodies strewn everywhere.
The father lay sprawled across the table with his intestines draped across a freshly cooked roast beef dinner. An undead farmer was face-deep in his stomach, consuming his innards. The mother lay in the doorway on her face, ripped apart by an undead boy. The two young daughters lay next to the table, a tender buffet for three undead. And Allison Miller, Roses’ best friend, was in the kitchen, her half-eaten liver hanging from the mouth of the undead whore.
M arkley's jaw quivered in fear. He stepped back from window and slowly turned, ready to run away from this madness, but he stopped instantly when he saw an undead man on the porch in front of him, head cocked, eyeing him hungrily. Before he knew what was happening the undead lunged for his neck. Markley still had the pistol in his hand and he shoved it deep into the undead’s gut and fired three times, but nothing happened. The undead man bit into his shoulder and tore away a mouth-full of flesh. Markley pointed the pistol at its temple and fired the remaining three bullets, showering the porch with undead brain, and then ran back to the cart in a panic.
He leapt onto the cart and whipped the horses forward, steering wildly back toward town. He used one hand to hold the reins and clutched his shoulder with the other as blood ran down his arm. He could see the glowing lights of the small town in the distance and whipped the horses again, continuing to gain speed. As he turned onto Main Street, he overcorrected, and lost control of the cart. The horses broke free and the cart smashed into the front of the general store, throwing Markley forward out of the seat.
The Gunman heard the commotion and stepped from the boardwalk into the street. Cutler, Rose, Johnny and Mason all exited the saloon behind him, with several others in tow. The sound of the smashing cart had drawn them out of the saloon and they stared down the street, trying to figure out what had happened.
“ Oh my god!” Rose screamed when she saw Markley slumped over the front of the cart, not moving. She bolted toward him, followed closely by the others.
Markley tried desperately to push himself up, but stumbled, and fell from the cart and landed face-first in the dirt. Rose grabbed him and helped turn him over onto his back.
“What happened?” she asked him.
Markley spit blood into the dirt and held his gut. He had started to enter shock and couldn’t answer her.
Rose turned to the others, who just there stood watching. “Somebody help me!” she pleaded.
Johnny moved in and grabbed Markley’s arm.
“We need to take him inside,” she told him.
Johnny quickly inspected his injured shoulder. “He's bleeding real bad. He needs the doctor!”
Cutler stepped in and helped them get Markley to his feet. “ The doc is indisposed at the moment. Just help get him inside dammit.”
Rose and Johnny held Markley upright and started walking toward the saloon. As the Gunman looked on, considering the situation, and wondering what the hell had happened, something caught his eye at the far end of town, moving slowly down the road.
Three u ndead emerged from the darkness and shuffled toward them. Their clothes were ragged and torn, their teeth rotten black. Decaying skin hung loosely from their bones. He turned and pulled a revolver, cocked and ready, unsure of what to do.
Cutler could see them as well. “ What the hell?”
Before anybody could react, an undead man lunged onto Mason and bit
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