Stopping the Dead by Cy Gunther

on.  Soft static filtered into his ear as he picked up the mic. 
    “Does anyone copy?” he asked.
    He looked at the clock on the laptop.  Five minutes, Ernst thought.  I’ll give it five minutes.
    “Does anyone copy?”
    He looked back at the laptop as the camera on the back of the Elm Street garage flickered out.  He jotted the location down on a notepad.
    “Does anyone copy?”
    The static broke.  “I copy,” said a woman’s voice.
    Ernst sat up straight.  “Where are you broadcasting from?”
    “Hollis.  This is…this was my husband’s.  Where are you?”
    “Nashua, just on the edge of town.  Do you have anyone else with you?”
    “No.  Just me.  John had a heart attack running from the neighbor.  Now they’re both standing on the front door step.  They’ve been there for two days.”
    Ernst sighed.   “Will you be able to get out?”
    “No …and I don’t want to get out.  I don’t want to be without Joh n, and I am.”  She paused, adding , “He loved this damned thing, you know.  Talked to people all over the place.  You might be able to find more people, if you really want to.”
    “We can try and get you,” Ernst said.  “We’ve got plenty of supplies, and there’s nine of us here.”
    “No.  No, thank you.”  Glass shattered in the background, and moans broke into the background.  “And there’s no reason, not now.  He’s in the house.  I did get one piece of information that may help you, the government shut down all the cellphone towers.”
    “What?”
    “They shut them down,” she said again, “they didn’t want news of it spreading, they wanted to contain it in the city.  But that didn’t work.”
    The moans grew louder behind her.
    “I have to go now.  John’s here,” she said, “and I don’t think that you want to hear this.”
    Static filled the headset, and Ernst put down the mic.  He relit his pipe and sat there for a long time, simply smoking and looking at his kitchen cabinets.
    The sound of boots on the warehouse’s concrete floor rang out and Lee walked into the kitchen , yawning.  She nodded to Ernst then paused.
    “You okay?”
    “No.  Not really.”
    “What’s up?”
    “Just listened to a woman kill herself.”
    Lee looked at him sharply.  “How?”
    “The radio,” he said, gesturing towards it with his pipe.  He explained what happened, and why the phones still didn’t work.
    “What the fuck,” Lee sighed, pouring herself a cup of coffee.  “That’s just screwed up in every way I can think of.”
    “Yes it is,” Ernst agreed.  He saw the time and said, “Time for your shift already?”
    “Yeah,” she said.  “Anything going on in the city?”
    He shook his head.  “Lost a few more cameras, but that’s it.  I’ve kept a list.  Once things get settled we can get out there and get those generators up and running if we want.  Keep an eye on things.”
    “Sounds like a plan,” Lee said.  “Now go get some rest.”
    “I’ll try,” Ernst said, standing up.  “But I’ll see you in the morning, regardless.”
    “That you will, Ernst,” she smiled.
    Ernst gave her a small smile in return, and walked to his room.
     

Corey
     
    “Hey,” Corey said.
    “What?” Brian asked.  He was double checking all of the .50 cal ammo boxes.  The .50 cal stood between them on the table in the machine shop, the jam cleared and the weapon cleaned.
    “What day is this?”
    “Day four of our own personal zombie apocalypse.  Why?”
    Corey shrugged, “I’m just thinking about Emily’s kids.”
    “Michael and Susan?”
    “Does she have more?”
    “Fuck you.”
    Corey laughed.  “Yeah, of course Michael and Susan.  I was just thinking how much it must suck not having toys and movies and shit.”
    “Yeah, I’ve been thinking that too.”
    “You know,” Corey said, “that second hand shop run by the nuns is just up the street.”
    Brian scratched his chin and looked at Corey.  “Do you think that