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Fight Club

By William Young

Published at Smashwords by William Young

Copyright 2012 by William Young

Thatcher, Arizona - Day 483

Garth Davies held his katana before him and stared at the five undead shuffling toward him from the R&R Pizza Express parking area. A little more quickly than normal, he thought, as he watched them approach. He had lured them down West Thatcher Boulevard from the spot nearby the Infamous Bar and Grill, where they had been hanging out for several days. Former patrons called home to their watering hole of choice by some leftover memories buried deep in their zombie brains and activated as a potential hunting spot? He looked around for a sprinter zombie. You had to be careful about the sprinters. They came out of nowhere fast and took you down quick, and he wasn’t sure if he had exposed himself too long to get their attention.

Not that he was worried. Just concerned. Bobby was in a homemade ghillie suit off to his left with an AR-15 rifle and Jose was behind the dumpster to his right with a Remington shotgun, although he was using a camcorder at the moment. Garth shrugged and adjusted the football shoulder pads, shaking them against his body and making sure they fit right. He was covered in sports padding: baseball catcher’s shin guards, rollerblading knee and elbow pads, and a skateboarding helmet on his head. You didn't want to take unnecessary chances with the undead.

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