Dave S Nicholson 2013
It was an empty echo of the town clock chiming 12 noon that woke up from my half slumber as I walked down the empty streets. I stopped and looked at the store window; there was this child sized mannequin in there with a dress just like Amy had. How I loved to see her on the swing in the back yard. But the world was dead and we who survived fared so much worse than those turned to dust. I remembered the last fight I was in. It was a fight for my life and all I got out of it was a pack of smokes and a bottle of cheap bourbon. I hated the days when my wife dragged me to the mall. I wish to God or the Devil or whoever is listening, that I could stand there holding her purse one more time.
The dogs came soon. There are always dogs. They hunt in packs and are a drain on my resources. In the beginning they would run when you shot one. Now that food was in short supply they did not run any more. That is to say, not from you but at you when you shot one. Lucky me there were only 3 this time.
First place I checked was the gun store. A few extra rounds and a nice new knife, then the church. They always went there. They always died there. Clustered on the base of the alter. Looking for what? For who? Did they think they would be spared somehow? When they came they took most of the young ones, and the rest where laid to waste. The sinners like me the ones that had the darkest desires once; we survived. Or was it that this all changed me so much I cannot remember the past? I must have been good once. I had a wife and a child and a dog that did not want to kill me.
A sound of foot falls, I turned and shot. I always hit my mark. This time it was a woman. I have not seen another alive in years and I just shot her dead. She was holding a cross. Did I think it was a gun? Did I care? Did I think? This is hell and the day is only half over.