“I’m not a zombie! I’m a man … Jimmy!” he shouted.

  “You sure look like a zombie!”

  Something sounded familiar about the man. The voice on the phone—his contact? Was that him? He recalled something.

  “I’m Jimmy Bawkula. JB 111.”

  The man gave him a curious look and lowered his gun.

  “Is that the XT Serum in the case Jimmy?”

  Jimmy thought he was smiling when he said it.

  “Everything you asked for.”

  The man shouldered his shotgun and held out his hands. He handed over the case and watched the man open it. The notes, videos and vials were all there.

  “Where’s the other flask? Weren't there two?”

  “The other one is in me. I got bitten,” he pointed at his bloody earhole, “so I injected myself.”

  The man closed the brief case.

  “Is that so? How do you feel?”

  “Like a million dollars! The serum works!”

  He knew he was smiling. His reward was on the way.

  “That’s good to know. Fascinating … my boss will love that.”

  “Great!”

  The small man had a half-smile, half-sneer on his face and his voice changed to ice water.

  “Well Jimmy … you don’t look like a million dollars.”

  He managed to laugh and shrug.

  “Well, I guess I don’t.”

  “No Boy … you look like a zombie.”

  Jimmy watched in slow motion as the man procured a semi-automatic pistol from thin air and pointed it at his head. He saw the fires of Hell when it exploded in his face.

  Epilogue

  It was a special night at the campfire as people of all ages were gathered around an older man with an excited face and graying beard. Fathers, sons, mothers, daughters and cousins shared hotdogs, s'mores, hot cocoa and beer, as the owls hooted and the tree frogs croaked. Everyone at the campsite was hanging on the man’s every word. His deep, melodious voice had drawn in all ears over the span of the past few hours. He rubbed his calloused hands together as he continued, while another man dropped another log on the blazing fire.

  “When Henry, Tori, Rudy and Weege finally made it out of the facility, the skies began to clear. The men in the black cars said they were with the World Humanitarian Society and they took over the place. Henry tried to tell them what was going on inside with the children, but they didn’t seem to listen. But, Henry never told them about the message Nate McDaniel sent. He was afraid they might kill him right then and there … but it didn’t happen. It was a sad day when he buried Stanley and his mother Linda. He had been given the authority to euthanize her, and he slept better after that.”

  “What happened to Tori,” a teenage girl with curly auburn hair urged.

  “Tori turned out just fine and got her old job back at Fast-Mart.”

  There was an awkward silence.

  “I’m kidding,” he said, patting her on the knee. “She and Henry got married not long after that, and he took a job as a school teacher and basketball coach. She stayed home baking cookies and making babies. They had a happier life.”

  “What about Rudy and Weege?” a boy, about eight, asked.

  “Well, they both moved to Las Vegas and became casino dealers.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” someone said.

  “Hey—what about the zombie kids, what happened to all of them?”

  The old story teller didn’t say anything at first as he stirred a stick in the ground.

  “As far as anyone knew, the WHS took them somewhere else. All but the one they couldn’t find … Louie.”

  Someone gasped as another young voice said, “You mean he’s still out there Grandpa?” There were uncertain looks and a few cracked smiles on the shadowy faces of the rest of the folks.

  “No Boy, he ain’t out there … He’s right behind you! Run!”

  Half of the camp jumped, while the rest fell over in laughter as the children screamed, scrambling to their parents. Heavy laughs came here and there until they all subsided. Some of the children were crying. The older ones were laughing. One boy, about twelve years old, was lying near the fire, looking up at the dark and distant hilltop called Guthrie. His name was Fergie, and he hated that story, but only because he knew it was true. Things had never been the same in the world since the day he and his grandpa raced away from the facility, home of the Zombie Day Care.

  Note from the Author

  I wanted to address a few things about the story. It’s a short novel, just over 37,000 words. I love writing short stories and I have dozens more that I plan to release, old and new. Zombie Day Care is a ridiculous idea (zombies slowed down by sugary caffeinated drinks, unlike the living) come to life. I wanted to try my own spin on the zombies as well. What happens when people get them under control? How does the world react? What do we do with them? I’ll fill in more details about who is behind the zombie outbreak in the second book, Zombie Rehab. The 3rd book, Zombie Warfare will be released early 2014.

  I don’t know if this series will go beyond 3 books, but I’m not ruling it out. My main genre is fantasy. But if you like the others Zombie Impact books we’ll see.

  Thanks for reading and if you have time an honest review would be nice.

  Don’t stop,

  Craig Halloran

  About the Author

  Craig Halloran currently resides with his family outside of his home town, Charleston, West Virginia. When he isn’t writing stories, he is seeking adventure, working out, or watching sports. To learn more about him go to: www.thedarkslayer.com

  Other available works by the author

  The Darkslayer: Wrath of the Royals (Book 1)

  The Darkslayer: Blades in the Night (Book 2)

  The Darkslayer: Underling Revenge (Book 3)

  The Darkslayer: Danger and Druid (Book 4)

  The Darkslayer: Outrage in the Outlands (Book 5)

  The Darkslayer: Chaos at the Castle (Book 6)

  Zombie Day Care: Impact Series - Book One

  Zombie Rehab: Impact Series - Book Two

  Zombie Warfare: Impact Series – Book Three

  The Chronicles of Dragon: The Hero, The Sword and the Dragons (Book 1 of 10)

 

  Connect with Craig:

  Facebook: The Darkslayer Report by Craig, Craig Halloran, The Darkslayer

  Twitter: CraigHalloran

 
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