Zomb

Sam takes a long draw off his beer and sighs.  “It’s like I keep saying.  The world after the zombie apocalypse is pretty much exactly the same as the world before the zombie apocalypse.  Except there’s zombies now.  I mean, you wake up, go to work nine-to-five like always, stop by the store for a six-pack and some bread, you know, man, whatever.”

“Except now you just bring a shotgun with you everywhere,” Dale chimes in, patting his double-barrel currently resting in his lap.

“Exactly!  Or, baseball bat, crowbar, y’know, whatever.  Zombies wander onto your lawn, you just sort of shoo ‘em away like ‘coons.  They get too close, sure, you can brain ‘em; it’s martial law after all, but that don’t mean we can’t be civil about it.”

The gruff man affectionately referred to as Big Sal scratches his head, then rubs his ragged black beard.  Having spent five weeks up north in his hunting cabin, he’d missed a few things while he was gone:  his friend’s friend’s marriage, the global brain parasite outbreak, Free Beer Day at Joe & Flo’s Bar & Grill, and the opening weekend of Between a Die and a Hard Place.  Just little things, really.

“So, hang on, brother,” Sal says, holding up his hand.  “Go back a ways.  They are letting us kill them, or they ain’t?

Dale spits angrily onto the ground, sending a nearly-invisible spider scurrying onto a different path.  “Damn Washington still ain’t made up their mind; s’like they change it every week.  Coverin’ they asses all day.  S’like they really ‘spect us to give them a ten-page test or something so we can figure out if they infected?  Bowl-sheet.”

Sam leans down onto his knees, holding out his fingers and ticking them off as he tries to give Big Sal the nutshell explanation one more time.  “All right, Sal, here’s how it works.  One:  The government classifies zombies as “legally insane”, so they can’t be held responsible for their own actions.  Two:  Self-defense laws still apply, and the governor declared martial law last week.  Three:  They HAVE found a way to remove the parasites, so keepin’ them alive ain’t a lost cause.  Basically, if ona-a them’s coming at you it’s fine if you kill him, but if they ain’t bothering you don’t go out of your way to bother them.  Zombies, they’re people too.”

Big Sal shakes his head in disbelief.  “That’s all sorts of messed up.”

“Damn right.”

{Wordpress didn’t upload my post correctly again.  Ah well, here, have some maybe zombies.}

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