Valley of Death, Zombie Trailer Park

The car galumphed and bucked, slowing from ten to five miles an hour then with a last enormous fart of a backfire it stopped with a final tremendous shudder.

  The small plastic hula dancing girl figurine on the dashboard shook slower then stopped.

  Mrs. Remlap pushed the maggot headed man that was still hanging halfway in the car, down on the back of his shirt and pulled on the passenger side seat belt with her free hand and strapped it down over his torso and head. Even through his shirt she felt the nastiness and coolness of his skin and did not care for the sensation at all.

  After it was secured with the seat belt, she paused to use a small bottle of hand sanitizer and quickly cleaned her hands.

  Effectively trapped by the seat belt, the bewildered maggot man grumbled and grunted face down in the passenger seat while his arms and legs flailed ineffectually about.

  She grabbed her umbrella and purse, climbed out of the car, and slammed the door shut.

  Steam continued to billow out along the edges of the heavily dented, blood splattered, hood and made the old lady cough and gag on the fumes as she made her way toward a shouting young man who was limping down Colonel Lester's trailer steps.

  She walked briskly but would not dare to run in the early dawn's light. There was all manner of junk scattered around on the ground and she knew tripping would be an extremely unhealthy move. But after hearing the men loudly snarling and screaming behind her she risked moving a little bit faster.

  Almost as loud as her pursuers was an annoying young man limping across the trailer's front yard yelling for her to run. But she kept thinking, Haste makes waste, while carefully veering around what looked like a collection of bird carcasses made up of mostly bones and feathers. A few moments later, she chanced a glance over her shoulder. She saw that most of those chasing her were not very fast and if they were all that slow she could have taken a leisurely walk the last twenty feet to the trailer.

  Unfortunately, a few of them were very fast and one was just passing the steaming remains of her late husband's car. With only seconds to act before he arrived, she turned and flicked the button on the umbrella. It snapped open with a whoosh sound, and it was no wimpy little umbrella either. It had a diameter of five feet and its multicolored sections stood out brightly catching a golden ray of early morning sunlight.

  The man chasing her was agitated, hungry, angry, violent, and suddenly extremely confused. What thoughts or impulses he had before the umbrella presented a confusing but beautifully bright rainbow of colors were at least momentarily wiped away. He stared in slack jawed fascination at the swirling colors as Mrs. Remlap spun the umbrella and continued her careful walk toward the trailer.

  While spinning the umbrella, she was reminded of a movie she saw where the dancers twirled them in a similar manner. She wondered how the idea had come to her but only continued walking and twirling.

  Reaching out a bloody hand, the man followed the spinning mesmerizing colors and made soft gurgling grunts that almost sounded like words. “Um um ooh um.” His fingertips were bleeding and worn partly away, exposing sharpened tips of bone, as they slid along the umbrella’s fabric.

  It created a sound that made the old lady shudder.

  Some of the other pursuers were surrounding the abandoned car. A short man with a blood encrusted bushy mustache grabbed onto one of maggot head's still flailing legs that still protruded out of the Nova's broken passenger side window and took a bite out of it.

  She heard them hitting the car, a mysterious shriek (that came from maggot head) and more grunting noises. Her fingers were aching from all the twirling of the umbrella and she almost dropped it only a few feet from the fence but somehow managed to hold onto it. Mrs. Remlap reached the gate while Josey quietly unlatched it, pulled it open, and whispered, “Hurry, the others are still coming.”

  The zombie heard his whisper and growled. It was no longer content to stare at the pretty colors and run his fingertips over the fabric. Seizing the umbrella violently, his bony almost claw-like fingers sliced easily through the fabric. He tore and yanked it from her grasp.

  After helping her into the yard, Josey shut and latched the gate then guided her quickly into the trailer. The door slammed shut as the rest of the undead arrived at the fence. They watched in apparent fascination as the one tearing and biting the umbrella wrestled it to the ground and ripped it to tiny shreds of multicolored fabric.