A Bit of Guilt
By Ken Burch
I sat there, motionless in my chair and waited for what I don't know. My hands
were sweaty and covered with blood. There was this god awful stench of sweat and
flesh that seemed to hover above and float beneath me. The others were resting
near-by but I couldn't sleep. There would be no sleep for me tonight, maybe
never for what I've done. Outside the evening heat reminded me of him. In the
distance, I can still hear the cries, the yell for help and the decision I made.
We were trapped back there, no doubt about it. The walls had closed in and there
was little time. We had tried as best as we could to figure out a plan, but he
was on edge that night almost uncontrollable.
I should have known, I should have taken out the time to notice more, to do more
to insure the safety of my people. I should have tried harder, but I had little
time to think. I know I should be able to think at a moments notice and adjust
at will, but that night was different from the others. That night I think I too
may have cracked.
Those stone walls were painted red with the blood of many and we were getting
tired. We had walked several miles that evening, searching for a place to sleep.
We had come across a truck secured on a lift which had no power. The generator
was some fifty yards away and the screams of zombies echoed through the heat of
the city streets. We were low on ammo and as I said, he was getting jumpy. We
had decided we would have only one shot at this and put our plan into action.
Finger ran out and started the generator, the others were to stay tight in the
corner and kill everything coming. It should have worked and was doing so
until I saw him step out a bit, not much but just enough and get the attention
of a smoker. It spotted him and latched onto him dragging him along and out from
our tightly grouped circle. The generator sputtered out and we had to restart it
again. This time the lift activated and the truck began to lower. More zombies
came and we fired off at anything that moved. I heard someone ask should we help
him and thats when it happened. My mind closed off and despite his yells for
help, his hand waving us on I gave the order “No”. As the truck lowered we moved
out to another wave of zombies running after us, their bodies bloody and hands
reaching. I ran past my friend and into the truck, glancing back only once to
We made it that night, but I'm sure I'll never find the sleep I need, until we
Editor's note: There are several other stories I should be editing but this one
is short enough to post on the front page and it's all about me, an irresistible
I was fortunate enough to find a picture of Bill doing his heroic last
stand shtick. It's not quite what went down but it's close enough for three
in the morning.
And, for what it's worth, I wouldn't have rescued me either, not in that situation.