The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!
“They’re still following us.”
“Would you stop looking back? I know they’re following us! We need to be on the other side of the bridge before they get halfway across.”
“This bridge is so long – I need a breather. Let’s stop running for just a minute. Duke needs a break too.”
Craig turned and glared at Lindsey, who was bent over with her hands on her knees, old Duke panting and drooling next to her.
“Christ, Lindsey! You and your stupid dog are going to get me killed! Get your ass moving – NOW.”
“We’re going to die anyway! What’s the fucking point of blowing up the bridge?”
Craig shielded his eyes from the sun to gauge the horde’s progress. A sigh of frustration escaped him. “I’ve told you. We get across this bridge, then blow it with the dynamite waiting there for me. There’s a small group of people on Little Island, and they have cleaned it out. It will be a safe place to stay until we can figure things out. But if the horde crosses the bridge onto the island, even if just one of those things gets over there, we are all fucked. And you’re damn lucky I found you and that fucking dog on the other side, so hurry up before I shoot you in the leg and leave you to distract them!”
“At least let me have some water – “
“Oh, fuck this.” Craig lifted his rifle, and shot Duke in the head.
Lindsey screamed and dropped next to the dog, cradling him in her arms. The horde, excited by her cries and the smell of fresh blood, shuffled faster towards them.
“Are you coming with me or staying?”
Lindsey shook her head, sobbing and rocking the chocolate lab, unable to speak.
“Whatever. Good luck.”
Craig reached the end of the bridge, out of breath himself. He shielded his eyes once again, looking for Lindsey. He could see the horde, stopped where he had left her. Their frenzied moans and movements told him he had no need to wait.
He followed the instructions left to him and blew up the bridge. Body parts and concrete flew into the air and splashed into the sparkling blue waters of the bay. He sat on the sand next to the rocks and lit a cigarette, smoking until the sun began to set. He flicked the butt into the water, then headed towards camp.
He never saw Lindsey crawl onto the beach, bites covering her body and skin torn from her bones. He never heard her whisper his name as she died.
It would be too late when her dead moaning woke him up at camp hours later.
Fiction © Copyright Sheri White
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
More from Author Sheri White:
Sacrificial Lambs and Others is Sheri White’s first collection. From quiet horror to bloody violence, these flash fiction pieces and short stories are chilling and emotionally visceral. You will find people teetering on the brink of sanity, dark farms, creepy carnivals, weird kids, and Armageddon. These stories will stay with you long after you’ve closed the book.