Red Light, Green Light
"Green light," Nick said.
Feet shuffled slowly through the grass. Above, the fat sickle moon gave the night sky a supernatural glow; crickets and frogs sang from thick pockets of darkness.
The shuffling ceased. He smiled, the nearby smell of wood smoke drifting by.
The shuffling picked back up again. He heard another.
Two minutes later, he turned and said, "Red Light!"
He pulled the nickel-plated Magnum from his holster and shot the zombie in the center of the head. Blood sprayed out the back of its skull as it fell back and struck the grass with a soft thump. The other two zombies stared at him with slack-jawed dismay; the chains holding them back winked in the moonlight. He heard the crash of a screen door open and then slam shut.
"Nicholas Steven Connors." A broad-shouldered redhead replied from the front porch, her hands perched on her hips. "Get your ass in this house, right now. You know what your father said about playing with the zombies in the yard."
Shoulders sagging in defeat, Nick walked toward the house and said, "Alright. You guys never let me have any fun."
12 March 2013