Tag Archives: westerns

How the West Was Zombed – Chapter 92

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The double doors at the back of the livery were secured with a long board shoved between two handles, one on each door. A pair of werewolf claws smashed through it and the doors were swung open.

Morris and Vaughn stomped in with their pointy teeth bared. Gentry, still in human form, entered with his pistol drawn.

What he saw next astonished him.

Annabelle’s body was laid out on the floor, completely motionless. Her eyes were closed. Her face was soaked with blood and guts.

Doc was straddling her. Blood dripped from his lips as he slowly lifted his head away from Annabelle’s neck to look at Gentry.

The physician was not his usual chatty self. “Gack…ack…ack.”

“Son of a bitch!” shouted Gunther.

Gentry and his companions stepped past Doc to find Gunther on the ground, clutching his stomach with his left hand. With his right, he struggled to grab his gun. It too laid in the dirt, ever so close but just out of his reach.

“God damn you to hell, Doc!” Gunther cried. “Why did I ever trust you?”

As Doc turned his attention back to Annabelle’s body, Morris and Vaughn stood together and watched as Gentry knelt down beside Gunther and pointed his pistol at the old man.

“Where is everyone?” Gentry asked. “And don’t take me for a fool or it’ll be the last thing you do.”

“That bastard,” Gunther said. “Tricked us all into throwing down our guns. Said he’d go out and smooth talk your boss into letting us go but…”

Gunther coughed and gasped for air.

“…then the cocksucker just up and executed everybody one by one! Stuffed all the bodies in the wagon. Said he was going to bring them all out to your boss as a peace offering so he’d let him go.”

Gentry grinned. “How fiendishly clever.”

Gunther let go of his stomach to reveal the blood all over his shirt and vest. He grabbed Gentry’s arm.

“But just as he was about to leave…he…he turned into a damn zombie and ate his girlfriend!”

“Well,” Gentry said. “Now I’ve seen everything.”

Coming from behind their heads, Morris and Vaughn could hear the distinct clicking sound of two gun hammers being cocked.

Gentry was facing the old man, but his ears picked up Doc’s voice.

“I wouldn’t say that just yet, my good man.”

Two shots. Two silver bullets pierced the backs of two werewolf heads. Gentry turned just in time to see their gargantuan hairy buddies hit the ground with colossal thuds.

Very much alive, Doc and Annabelle stood there with smoking guns in their hands. Doc had used one of his spring loaded weapons while Annabelle made use of Miss Bonnie’s derringer.

Meanwhile, Gunther appeared to be feeling a whole lot better as he reached for his gun and blew a hole right through the back of Gentry’s head, which led to his carcass collapsing next to the other werewolves.

The back doors of Doc’s wagon flew open and Slade poked his head out. “Did we get ‘em?”

“Oh we got ‘em all right,” Gunther said.

The old man looked at his clothes. “Aw dang it. Rabbit blood all over the vest Mavis made for me.”

Doc took Annabelle’s hand. “Yes, and I do apologize for rubbing a bunny corpse all over your face my dear.”

Annabelle shrugged. “Eh, it’s ok. After working in Bonnie’s joint for five years, it’s actually not the most disgusting thing that’s ever been rubbed on my face.”

Doc nodded. “That’s the spirit.”

Miss Bonnie jumped out of the back of the wagon and walked over to Doc. “I stand corrected.”

“Yes,” Doc said. “’Tis quite alright, Miss Lassiter I suppose in my new life as a partial zombie I shall have to suffer all manner of aspersions on my character.”

“Just shut up and take an apology, asshole,” Miss Bonnie replied.

“So taken,” Doc said.

Miss Bonnie hugged Annabelle, doing her best to not get any blood on herself. “Take care of yourself.”

“I will,” Annabelle said.

The redhead hopped up into the driver’s seat. Slade took Sarah’s hand and helped her out of the back of the wagon.

“Rain,” the bride said. “Do you really think it wise for us to split up?”

“Things aren’t safe here,” Slade replied as he handed Miss Bonnie her shotgun.

“But you won’t be able to protect me if I leave,” Sarah said.

“Miss Bonnie’s got you covered,” Slade said.

“Oh Rain,” Sarah said as she went in for one last hug. “I know you’ll be ok, you’re so perfect and all. But should something happen to me I want you to know how much I love you.”

There Sarah stood, with her big eyes staring up at Slade, waiting for the customary reply a woman typically expects when she tells her man that she loves him.

“God damn it,” Slade said.

Miss Bonnie slapped her forehead upon hearing that response.

“What?” Sarah asked, her face giving off the expression of a wounded doe.

“Uh,” Slade said. “God damn it that we have to part ways is all…but…”

The stoic looked up at Miss Bonnie. Exasperated, she nodded her head up and down.

“I love you too,” Slade said. “And don’t worry. Everything’s going to be ok. I don’t want to hear any more talk about something bad happening to you.”

Slade helped Sarah up into the passenger’s seat next to Miss Bonnie.

“This isn’t goodbye, Rain,” Sarah said. “It’s just, ‘see you later.’

“Right,” Slade replied. “See you later.”

“Later,” Sarah said. “When all is well and we can have another wedding…bigger and better than ever.”

The groom paused. “Right.”

Slade walked around to the back of the wagon where Miles was sitting. It was a delivery wagon so there weren’t any seats in the back, but the boy made do on the floor.

Miles passed Slade the ammo bag and the two Winchesters. Slade took one then handed the other back to the kid.

“You know how to shoot?” Slade asked.

“Pa taught me,” Miles replied.

“It’s yours,” Slade said. “Every cowboy needs a Winchester.”

“Wow,” Miles said. “Thanks.”

Gunther walked over to say his goodbyes. “You’re the toughest kid I’ve ever seen, Miles.”

“I am?” Miles asked.

“Well, I don’t know any other dog monster kids so…”

Miles started to correct the old man. “Were…ah, you know what? Screw it.”

“Protect the womenfolk,” Slade said.

“You got it,” Miles said.

Slade closed the back doors and slapped the back of the wagon.

“Miss Lassiter…”

The driver turned and looked at Slade. They both caught each others’ eyes and there was no need to say anything. They knew how they felt about each other. Miss Bonnie cleared her throat. “Mr. Slade?”

“Roll out.”

Miss Bonnie snapped the reigns and Chance trotted away, pulling the wagon behind him.

A commotion broke out outside. Snarling werewolves. Growling zombies. War whups and battle cries.

Gunther and Slade rushed to the window just in time to see Blythe fall down with an arrow stuck in his chest.

“Holy shit,” the old timer said.

“He came,” Slade added.

Most improperly, Annabelle wiped the bunny blood off her face and onto her dress, then took Doc’s hand as he helped her up onto the back of a black horse.

“Meet Hercules, my dear,” Doc said as he climbed up into the saddle. “He’s been with me for quite some time, a very reliable beast.”

Annabelle patted her hand across Hercule’s coat. “Nice horsey.”

“Gentlemen,” Doc said, grabbing just enough of Slade and Gunther’s attention to get them to look away from the window. “It’s been a pleasure.”

Slade grunted, recalling in his mind a time his mother had told him the old line about how if a man can’t think of something nice to say then he shouldn’t say anything at all.

“Yeah ok then,” Gunther said. “Thanks for stopping by and starting a zombie apocalypse ya’ horse’s ass.”

Annabelle wrapped her arms around Doc’s waist.

“Hold on my dear,” Doc said. “And we shall be addressing the Queen of England on the curative properties of cocaine before you know it.”

“Oh gosh, the Queen?” Annabelle asked. “I don’t even have a dress fancy enough for that meeting.”

“You will my dear,” Doc said. “As many as you wish.”

The physician snapped the reigns on Hercules and away they went out the back of the livery.

Slade and Gunther looked out the window again just in time to see Blythe stand up.

“Shit,” Gunther said.

Slade handed Gunther the Winchester. “You’re better with it than I am.”

Gunther racked up a bullet and took one side of the front door. Slade withdrew his twin pistols and took the other.

“On three then?” the old man asked.

Slade nodded. Gunther started counting. “One..two…”

Slade interrupted the count. “In case I don’t get to say it later, its been nice knowing you, Deputy.”

The old man nodded. “Well holy shit. A compliment from Rainier Slade.”

“Don’t ruin it,” Slade replied.

“Right,” Gunther said. “And likewise, Marshal.”

The two men took a deep breath and then Gunther shouted, “Three!”

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How the West Was Zombed – Chapter 86

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Slade peeked his head around the corner of the late Townsend’s Blacksmith Shop. The only sign of life was a lone bunny rabbit hopping across the street.

Wearing Joe’s silver tipped bullet bandolier across his chest, Slade took Sarah by the hand and gave the group the all clear.

“Move,” he commanded.

Gunther and Miss Bonnie followed, weapons at the ready. Miles, wearing his blanket like a cloak, crossed the street next.

The Reverend stuck with Miles.

Doc and Annabelle brought up the rear.

“Bunny!” Annabelle cried out uncontrollably as soon as she saw the big eared hare.

Her outburst was immediately met with a shush laden rebuke from the group.

“You must keep your voice down, my dear,” Doc whispered.

“But he’s so adorable!” Annabelle whispered back.

“Then we shall get you a hundred rabbits as soon as we cross the Mississippi,” Doc whispered.

“I don’t know if I need a hundred,” Annabelle replied.  “That’d be so cute though. I could take a bath in bunnies.”

“Will you two shut your gobs?” Miss Bonnie asked.

Slade reached the livery first. He kicked open the front door. Chance reared back on his hind legs and whinnied loudly until he recognized his rider.

Miss Bonnie brushed her hand along the horse’s coat to calm him down, then led him to Doc’s wagon.

She knew it instantly by the words emblazoned on the side in red paint, “Doc Farraday’s Miracle Cure-All: Embrace a Life of Good Health with Cocaine Today!”

Slade and Miss Bonnie hitched Chance up to Doc’s wagon. Then he put his hands on Sarah’s shoulders.

“Miss Lassiter is one of Highwater’s toughest citizens,” Slade said. “You’re in good hands.”

Sarah hugged Slade and held him close. “Come with me. You don’t have to save this town. The people here have clearly never appreciated you.”

“It’s not about the town anymore,” Slade said. “I need to save America, or else none of us will be safe.”

The bride pressed her lips against Slade’s. She attempted to kiss him deeply but didn’t get much in return.

“For luck,” Sarah said.

Miss Bonnie, standing just behind and to the left of Sarah, stuck a finger in her mouth and pretended to gag.

Slade ignored it. He looked to Miss Bonnie. “Just keep heading South. I’ll find you.”

He caught himself and looked at Sarah. “All of you. I’ll find all of you.”

The Reverend left his booze back at the church. A leather bound bible was the only item he carried with him.

“Well then,” the preacher said. “If we’ve all said our goodbyes, it’s onward Christian soldiers before we all become zombie chow, yes?”

Miss Bonnie hugged her ex-employee. “Annabelle, won’t you change your mind and come with us?”

“Bonnie I’ll never forget you,” Annabelle said. “You taught me everything I know about…”

The prostitute caught a glimpse of Sarah’s disapproving eyes and changed course. “About that thing…”

“Which thing?” Miss Bonnie asked. “Hell, I never once did that thing you and that pervert do in my entire life.”

“He’s the best man I’ve ever met,” Annabelle said.

“Then look harder,” Miss Bonnie replied. “I don’t trust him.”

“I do,” Annabelle said. She looked around. “Where is he anyway?”

Annabelle walked toward the door. As she got closer to it, she heard some strange sounds.

Teeth crunching on bones. Lips smacking. And an erudite doctor whispering to himself, “Oh yes…yes…so succulent…so tender…mmm…yes.”

Annabelle stepped outside and caught Doc red handed…and red faced…red everything’d. Blood had squirted all over the good doctor’s face as he chomped into the limp bunny carcass as if it were a chicken dinner.

“Doc!”

Surprised, Doc hid the tiny, mangled bunny corpse behind his back.

Annabelle frowned. “Was that the…”

“What?” Doc asked.

“What are you hiding behind your back?” Annabelle asked.

“Nothing my dear.”

Doc’s blank eyes darted up and to the right as he whistled a jaunty tune and pretended that everything was fine.

Annabelle stood there waiting with her hands on her hips. Finally, Doc realized the jig was up and revealed the deceased bunny.

“I’m sorry, my dear,” Doc said as he hanged his head down. “It would seem that I have a problem.”

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How the West Was Zombed – Book #1 of the Zombie Western Series

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SUMMARY:

Highwater, Missouri. 1880. The Old West was a time of expansion and opportunity for some, oppression and violence for others. Dangerous desperadoes ran wild leaving lawmen struggling to maintain order.

U.S. Marshall Rainier Slade is a genuine stoic, a quiet man with a raspy voice, a permanent scowl on his face, and a disdain for humanity that leaves him using the bare minimum amount of words necessary to get his point across. His deputy, the elderly, pragmatic yet loyal Gunther Beauregard does most of the talking.

Together, they work to enforce the law in a town filled with drunkeness, debauchery, and mayhem. Meanwhile, there’s a tentative peace between the townsfolk and a nearby Native American tribe, made possible only by the good rapport between Slade and Chief Standing Eagle.

The world Slade knows crashes down around him when the dead start refusing to die, thanks to the evil endeavors of Henry Alan Blythe, Attorney-at-Law for the Legion Corporation, and his newly recruited flunkies, the Buchanan Boys.

Zombies aren’t the creatures our heroes will have to worry about. Vampires and werewolves are on the prowl too.

Will Slade save the day? Will the West be lost to the zombie hordes? And when the dust settles and the last undead brain gets a bullet through it, will our hero choose the scandalously alluring brothel owner Miss Bonnie, or the prim and proper bible thumping Widow Farquhar?

PART 1 – The Stand 

U.S. Marshall Rainier Slade and his trusty deputy Gunther Beauregard are joined by traveling snake oil salesman Doctor Elias T. “Doc” Faraday in a stand against the nefarious Buchanan Boys.

PART 2 – Werewolves and Women

Smelly Jack and the Buchanan Boys have been captured and now our hero, US Marshal Rainier Slade, has to wait a week until the arrival of Judge Sampson.

In the meantime, a love triangle blooms. Scandalous brothel madame Miss Bonnie is the only woman Slade can be himself around but…the bible thumping Widow Farquhar is there.

Never underestimate the power a woman who is there has on a lonely man.

Plus, there are some damn werewolves.

PART 3 – The Trial

A day of reckoning comes for the Buchanan Boys. Judge Sampson comes to town and is hankering to pass out some hangings.

But “simple country lawyer” Henry Allan Blythe and his werewolf lackeys have other plans in mind.

PART 4 – History Repeats Itself

Joe Freeman’s past haunts him again and again and his longstanding feud with Blythe is about to come to a head.

Blythe, a villainous vampire/counsel for the Legion Corporation’s board of vampire directors, has dreamed up a scheme to conquer the United States with a zombie army that responds to his will.

But the board’s bureaucratic maneuvering threatens to throw his plan off the rails. His bosses want him to toy with Slade and Freeman, rather than kill them outright.

PART 5 – Wedding Crashers 

Though his heart belongs to fiery redhead Miss Bonnie, Slade just can’t bring himself to say no to his fiance, Sarah “the Widow” Farquhar. Slade and Sarah head to Highwater to plan a wedding for the evening. Actually, Sarah does most of the planning. Slade acts like a depressed hostage.

Meanwhile, a heavily armed and armored train arrives in town. Despite an argument filled with chest puffery, Slade is unable to get any information out of villainous lawyer Blythe.

Smelly Jack crashes Slade and Sarah’s wedding in a big way, though as it turns out, in a much bigger way than expected…

PART 6 – Miles Freeman, Amateur Werewolf

When Blythe’s evil werewolves attack the Bonnie Lass Saloon, Highwater finds itself in the grip of a terrifying zombie outbreak.

But for young Miles Freeman, there’s no time to feel sorry for himself when he loses his father.

Miss Bonnie needs his help…and Blythe’s wolves are on the hunt.

Somehow, Miles will have to figure out how to use his werewolf powers to save the day.

It won’t be easy for him. After all, he might be a werewolf…but he isn’t a very good one.

PART 7 – Doc’s Secret Shame

After Miles gives the survivors a crash course regarding the Legion Corporation’s evil plans, Doc must acknowledge his tarnished past in order to come to grips with a terrible mistake he’s made in the present.

PART 8 – Plans

Plans. Everyone has them.

Slade’s isn’t much of one. He intends to send his bride away in the care of Miss Bonnie, the woman he loves the most. After that, he and Gunther will take Blythe head on, hopefully with Standing Eagle’s help.

Meanwhile, Lady Blackwood beseeches the Chairman to set aside the board’s plans in favor of her own.

And Doc? He’s planning to do something with two mysterious documents.

Part 9 – The Not So Great Escape

Tribal shaman Wandering Snake guilts Standing Eagle into coming to Highwater’s aid.

Slade gets his crew to the livery stable, with a plan to send Miss Bonnie, the Widow Farquhar and Miles south to seek refuge with Eagle’s allies.

Meanwhile, Doc and Annabelle plan to head East to pursue their dreams of becoming international cocaine peddling gynecologists. (Yes, it makes more sense if you read it.)

But with an army of obedient zombies under his control, Blythe interferes with these plans.

The Reverend’s attempt to find some good in Blythe backfires in a big way.

Miles will need to figure out how to be a werewolf before its too late.

Part 10 – Dying with Your Boots On

Blythe has loaded his vile army of the undead aboard a train headed East, schemes to backstab his furry friends and enlists the aid of a strange vampire colleague for some sinister doings.

The vampire lawyer makes Slade an offer he can refuse, but in turn, the counselor refuses to take no for an answer.

Blythe separates Slade’s women. Will our hero be able to save them both before it is too late?

Gunther wishes his boots were off.

Part 11 – Catching a Train

It’s do or die time for Slade.

A train full of zombies is barreling East. If it crosses the Mississippi River, the United States is surely doomed.

Will our hero save the day?

And while he’s at it, will he save the woman he loves?

Will he even get to save the woman he likes?

Part 12 – One Week Later

The West has been zombed.  Cut off from the rest of the country, our heroes contemplate their next moves.

Part 13 – One Year Later 

A year has passed since the West has been zombed.

Miles makes a deal with a suspicious new acquaintance.

Annabelle takes up Doc’s cause.

Slade and Miss Bonnie head to Arizona and get a visit from Wyatt Earp.

And finally…a master outdoorsman is put on the path to the presidency.

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How the West Was Zombed – Chapter 85

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The Sturtevant Bridge was an impressive architectural masterpiece, spanning over a mile across the Mississippi River, connecting Missouri to Illinois.

Robards was going to make it go boom.  He and the other soldiers attached bundles of dynamite to support beams as Major Culpepper supervised.

“Speed and precision, men,” the Major advised. “We must move quickly but we don’t want to blow ourselves up either.  Bartlett!”

As always, the Corporal was standing at the Major’s side.  “Sir?”

“Ah, there you are,” the Major said as he handed the Corporal an official document.  “Be a good man and tack this to a tree on the Western side, will you?”

The Corporal perused the document:

An Executive Order of President Rutherford B. Hayes

In recognition of the following facts:

  • That dangerous creatures, identified by experts in the occult arts as “zombies” have cut a wide swath of destruction from Colorado to Missouri.
  • That eyewitness reports describe the aforementioned zombies as dead men capable not only of movement, but also in possession of the ability to turn the living into moving dead men by biting them.
  • That further reports claim large wolf like men are working in consort with these zombies.
  • That Secretary of War George McCrary has advised that direct military action against the zombies is ill-advised at this time.

It is so ordered…

  • That the United States Army shall oversee the construction of a wall along the entire length (2,320 miles) of the Eastern side of the Mississippi River, from its start in Minnesota to its end in Louisiana.  The start of this wall will be connected to a wall currently being constructed by the Canadians across border with our nation.
  • All bridges across the Mississippi River are to be destroyed immediately. 
  • All peoples West of the Mississippi River shall be considered to be carriers of the dreaded zombie contagion and will be shot on site should they attempt to cross over to the East side of the river. 
  • To that end, sentries shall be posted across the Eastern banks of the river and will be under orders to shoot all trespassers without reservation or delay.
  • For purposes of the wall construction efforts, all citizens East of the Mississippi River shall be required to forfeit any and all property as deemed necessary.
  • All able bodied men, regardless of age, shall be required to aid in the wall construction effort.
  • All foreign nations are hereby put on notice that all lands West of the Mississippi River, from the river itself to the Pacific Coast, are still considered the property of the United States.  The U.S. government reserves the right to repopulate these lands in the event that the zombie menace should subside.  Therefore, any attempts to invade, conquer or colonize these lands shall be considered an act of war.
  • All living humans West of the Mississippi River are advised to fight the zombies in any method they deem practical.
  • All living humans West of said river continue to remain citizens of the United States and are expected to obey the laws of the same.  Attempts to form an alternative Federal government in the West shall be deemed treason.
  • All duly appointed Federal officers in the West shall retain their positions, are expected to continue in their duties and make arrangements for their replacements should they become incapable of continuing in office.  However, no compensation can be offered in exchange for these duties at this time.
  • All living humans in the West who engage in activities that would normally result in the payment of Federal taxes and/or fees shall continue to pay said sums to their nearest Federal tax collector, who shall hold such sums indefinitely in the event that the zombie menace subsides.

Signed this 4th day of June, 1880.

Rutherford B. Hayes, President of the United States of America

The Corporal looked up from the document.  “All due respect sir, if I were a Westerner, I’d wipe my ass with this.”

“I don’t give a shit what they do with it, Corporal,” the Major said.  “Just get over there, tack that  paper to a tree to put them all on notice then get your ass back here.”

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How the West Was Zombed – Chapter 84

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Standing Eagle raced his horse across the valley, bound for Highwater.  For a good part of the ride, he watched as grain silo on the edge of town catch fire, only to eventually break apart and collapse upon itself.

Suddenly, the Chief heard galloping hooves behind him.  Screeching Owl and Wandering Snake flanked Eagle on the left.  Charging Bobcat and Crafty Fox took their leader’s right flank.

Eagle brought his horse to a halt.  His warriors did the same.

“Why do you defy my orders?” the Chief asked.

“If you are Standing Eagle, then tonight, we are all Standing Eagle,” Wandering Snake replied.

“Our people,” the Chief said.

“In safe hands with Solemn Bear,” Crafty Fox said. “He leads them south as we speak.”

“I will not have you die for white men who lie to you,” Eagle said. 

Charging Bobcat had applied menacing warpaint to his face.  He’d covered his face with a black base and on top of that, he’d drawn a white skull.  He almost looked like a zombie himself.

“We do not do this for the white men, Eagle,” Bobcat said.  “We do this for you.”

Eagle’s stern face did not betray the sense of pride that swelled within him.  He nodded and together, the group made haste for Highwater.

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How the West Was Zombed – Chapter 73

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Doc stared at the ropes binding him to a chair.

“Is this really necessary?” Doc asked.  “None of you are in any imminent peril from me I assure you.”

“That’s exactly what a zombie would want us to believe,” Miss Bonnie said as she looped another coil of rope around the doctor and tied it up tight.  “Lull us into thinking everything’s peachy keen then before we knew it he’s chomping on our brains before you can whistle dixie.”

“Why are you talking?” the Reverend asked.  “The other zombies didn’t talk.  They just grunted.

“Hmmm,” Slade said as he stepped over, Sarah still attached to his side.

“Like that,” the Reverend added.

“Those peepers of yours are sending a chill up my spine, Doc,” Gunther said.  “This is for your own good until we know what’s going on with you.”

“It’s either this or we put you down like a dog,” Miss Bonnie said.

Anabelle rubbed her hand across Doc’s cheek.  “How do you feel?”

“Never better, my dear,” Doc said.  “Like I’m a young buck again.  Even better.  Better than I’ve ever felt in my entire life.  I feel like I could run for miles and lift enormous weights over my head.  I dare say I even feel better than I do when I am under the effects of cocaine.”

Miles was a boy again and wearing his blanket like a cloak once more. 

“Can you make heads or tails of this, youngun?” Gunther asked.

“Nope,”  Miles said.  “He looks like a zombie.  But he talks so much…”

“Well shit,” Gunther said.  “He was like that before.  Why did all those varmints vamoose?”

Miles walked over to the doorless frame and stepped onto the porch.  Miss Bonnie and Gunther joined.  The trio watched as scores of zombies all lumbered toward the opposite side of town.

“Blythe’s calling them,” Miles said.  “And that’s not good.  If you think they were bad on their own, wait until he gets them organized.”

Gunther poked his head through the door frame and spied the bride.

“Miss Sarah.  Do you think I could borrow your beau?”

Sarah shook her head furiously.  “No.”

“You’ll be fine, Miss Sarah,” Gunther said.  “I guarantee it.  We’re all going to be right here…”

Gunther nodded at Miles.  “And we even got a dog monster on our side.”

“Werewolf,” Miles said.

“No,” Sarah said, clutching Slade even tighter, practically cutting off the circulation in his arm.

Anabelle grabbed one of Sarah’s arms and the Reverend grabbed the other.  Together, they gently pried her off of Slade.

“Miss Sarah,” the Reverend said.  “At times like these, do you know what I find most comforting?”

“The good book?” Sarah asked.

“Bourbon!” the Reverend said.  “Let’s go find my stash.”

“Rain!” Sarah shouted.  “Rain you’re not going away are you?”

“No,” Slade said.

“Promise me you won’t leave me.”

“I…I promise.”

The trio of Slade, Gunther and Miss Bonnie found a bit of privacy out on the front porch.

“Well, what’s the plan, marshall?”  Gunther asked.

“Marshall?” Slade asked.  “I turned in my star.”

“No one gives a shit about that star, Rain,” Gunther said.  “We’re the only law this town has and you’re still the marshal as far as I’m concerned.”

Miss Bonnie nodded.  “He’s right.  What’s our next move, marshall?”

Slade’s voice was raspy as ever as he looked at Gunther.  “You want to fight now?  You’re the one who always wants to run away from everything.”

The old man’s face turned bright red with rage.

“Damn it, boy,” Gunther said.  “I do not run away from everything.  I run away from some things.  There’s a big damn difference.”

“There is?” Slade asked, curious at this side of Gunther he’d never seen before.

“Yeah there is,” Gunther said.  “I wasn’t a shrinking violet by any stretch when it was my turn to do my part to keep the union together. And I did more than my fair share of fighting in Texas before you were even a twitch in your Daddy’s pecker.”

“Texas?”  Miss Bonnie asked.

“You’re darn tootin’,” Gunther said.

“Bullshit,” Slade said.

Gunther unsheathed his knife and handed it to Slade.  “Read that handle motherfucker.”

Slade squinted at the handle and looked shocked when he saw two engraved words. 

“James Bowie.”

“Colonel Jim Bowie of the Texas Volunteer Army,” Gunther said as he snatched the knife back.  “Trusted me with the very first sticker he ever invented.  Commanded me to get it the hell out of the Alamo before Santa Anna could get his grubby mitts on it.  He trusted me with it on account of how many Mexicans I killed, thank you very much.”

“You never said anything,” Slade said.

“I never needed to say anything,” Gunther said.  “I don’t need to sashay around with a sour puss on my face and a cigar in my yap the way you do just to prove to the world that I got a big swingin’ dick.  This knife and my memories are the only proof I need.”

“He’s got you there, Rain,” Miss Bonnie said.

“What?” Slade asked.

“You put on airs,”  the redhead said.

“I do not.”

“You do,” Miss Bonnie said.  “You got this tough guy act you put on around everyone but me.”

“But you?” Gunther asked Miss Bonnie.

“He’s a real sweet teddy bear,” Miss Bonnie said.  “Aint you?” she asked Slade.

Slade’s forehead vein was throbbing.  With full rasp he declared, “I am not a teddy bear.”

“Look,” Gunther said.  “I don’t run from every fight.  Just the fights that aren’t worth dying for.  Only a dumb ass would let himself get shot trying to save a town full of ungrateful yahoos from getting their shit stolen from a scumbag like Smelly Jack.”

The old man pulled bullet after bullet off of his belt and one by one, inserted them into the chamber of his pistol.

“But when I was just a bit older than Miles in there I saw a chance to make a life for myself in a free Texas so I took it,” Gunther said.  “It didn’t work out the way I’d hoped but at least I came back here knowing I’d earned a great man’s respect.  And years later when there was chance to keep the North and South from going their separate ways?  You better believe that was a cause worth fighting for.”

Slade chewed on the end of his cigar.  The old timer pointed at the zombies trudging away down the road.

“And even though the odds are a million to one against a victory here,” Gunther said. “If there’s even a slim chance that I can keep the United States of America from becoming stepped on by a bloodsucking son of a bitch’s boot heel, then you best believe I’m going to take it.”

Miss Bonnie cocked her shotgun.  “That was beautiful Gunther.  Rain, let him hear your real voice.”

Slade flashed Miss Bonnie a look of total betrayal.  “What?” he grunted.

“Go on,” Miss Bonnie said.  “Gunther shared.  Now you share.  This is how you make friends.”

“I don’t want to,”  Slade said, gruffly.

Miss Bonnie stomped her foot. “Rainier Slade, this man is the best friend you will ever have and you will let him hear your real voice right this instant!”

Slade rolled his eyes then cleared his throat.  He started talking normally, with his real voice, the one he only shared with Miss Bonnie.

It wasn’t womanly.  Or all that intolerable.  But as it turned out, Slade’s regular tone was just the slightest bit…nasal.

“This is how I talk.”

Gunther leaned back and looked Slade in the eye.  “Really?”

“Really.”

“Fuck,” Gunther said.

The old man slapped the marshal’s back.  “Like I said, boy.  As long as you’re convinced your dick swings, no one else’s opinion matters.”

Gunther moved near the door frame.  “If you want to fight, we’ll fight.  If you want to run, we’ll run.  No shame in it under the circumstances. It’s easy for me to say let’s fight because I’ve done all my living already but you two are just getting started.  Whatever you decide, I’m with you, marshall.”

Slade tipped the end of his Stetson.  “Thank you…deputy.”

The old man walked into the church but then poked his head back outside.

“But seriously, get that frog back in your throat.  You’re going to kill the morale in here.”

“Got it,” Slade said.

Slade and Miss Bonnie sat on the edge of the porch.

“I wish you hadn’t done that,” Slade said.

“Please,” Miss Bonnie said.  “I’ve known that old buzzard longer than you and I’ve never seen him go on about another man the way he does about you.  He doesn’t care what you sound like.”

“You don’t know what I’ve been through,” Slade said. 

“Are you ever going to tell me?” Miss Bonnie asked.

“Maybe,” Slade said.  “When you tell me why a cancan girl can drop a slew of zombies and offer to blow off Doc’s head without breaking a sweat.”

Miss Bonnie stood up.  “Touche,” she said as she walked into the church.  “I’ll let you think.”

All alone, Slade laid back and stared up at the stars.  “Yeah.  Let me think.”

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How the West Was Zombed – Chapter 71

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The front door crashed open under the weight of an incoming zombie horde.  Over a dozen undead townsfolk in various states of decomposition entered.  Some were missing limbs, eyes, jaws, or some other part.  Not a one of them was fully intact.

Slade drew his twin pistols and popped heads left and right.  Gunther joined in with his sidearm, as Miss Bonnie did with her shotgun.

It was a bloodbath.  Guts galore.  Body parts, internal organs, pieces of bone and chunks of brain spewed all over the house of worship.

Despite being three sheets to the wind, the Reverend still retained the good sense to grab Sarah by the hand and lead her to the back of the room, where they took cover behind the pulpit.

Anabelle had never fired a gun before but figured now was as good a time as any to give it a try.  She picked up one of the rifles Bonnie had delivered off of the table, racked up a bullet, and pointed it at a zombie head.  She exploded the creature’s skull but being unused to the weapon’s kickback, she was knocked butt first to the ground.

She turned her attention to Doc, who was still lying face down on the floor.  The prostitute yanked on the good doctor’s arm, attempting to move him to safety all by herself.  He proved too heavy for her petite frame, but she kept pulling anyway.

Miles wolfed out, growing to his massive hairy form.  He spied more zombies pouring in through the broken window.  The werewolf clawed through a few intruders, then plugged the window with his body.  He could feel teeth biting into his hide.  It would have meant instant death for anyone else, but for him, it was mildly annoying.  Like mosquitos that wouldn’t go away.

To the right of the pulpit, there was a door that led to a hallway which in turn led to a number of rooms and a backdoor.  A terrified Slade craned his neck back as the sounds of wood being smashed came from that direction, followed by more groans.

Gunther heard the noise too. “Go!” he said to Slade. 

Miss Bonnie.  Sarah.  Miss Bonnie.  Sarah.  As per usual, Slade’s mind was torn between his two ladies.  But he trusted Gunther.  And Miss Bonnie was racking up quite a body count of her own. Meanwhile Sarah only had the Reverend or in other words, basically had no one.

It’s been said that the Winchester rifle is the gun that won the West.  It was revolutionary for its time, giving a marksman the ability to shoot as fast as he could pull a handle.

Slade picked up the rifle that Annabelle had dropped and aimed it at the door toward the back of the room.  A zombie trudged in.  Slade yanked that handle, racked up a bullet and bam.  That zombie was headless, its corpse plopping down on the floor.

The ex-marshall kept moving forward.  With expert precision, he popped another head.  Then another.  His spent casings clinked across the floor.

Sarah was beyond consolation, but the Reverend did his best anyway, quoting every uplifting bible verse he could think of to keep her spirits up.

Slade racked up another bullet but…bam.  The zombie head he was aiming for exploded before he pulled his trigger.  He looked to his right and Doc was up on his feet, giving the incoming zombies a barrage from his guns.

“Have at thee, knaves!”  Doc cried as he sent more and more of the undead to their doom.

Werewolf Miles cocked his head to the right in confusion as he felt the teeth stop biting him.  He looked out the window.  His attackers were walking away. 

Miss Bonnie and Gunther had whittled their horde down to three.  Those creatures also turned and walked for the door, only to become easy sport as the old man and the red head picked them off.

Slade took out the last zombie at the back of the church then ran to his bride.  Sarah flinged herself at Slade and squeezed him hard, holding on for dear life.

Doc shook his wrists and his spring loaded guns retracted up underneath his sleeves. 

“Monsters with the good sense to retreat when they are outmatched?” Doc asked.  “I say, just as one puzzle is solved, another presents itself.”

The good doctor helped Annabelle up.  “Are you all right my dear?”

“I think so but…”

Anabelle took one look at Doc and shrieked.

Slade attempted to investigate but Sarah kept her grip.  She had become a widow shaped barnacle attached to Slade’s hip.

Gunther and Miss Bonnie took a look at Doc’s eyes.  They were all white.  Completely blank.  Devoid of any color whatsoever.  Though his flesh had yet to rot, his new peepers made him look like the zombies that had just torn the place apart.

The old man and the redhead pointed their guns at Doc.  Slade wiggled one hand free from his bride and got Doc in his sights with one of his pistols.

“Was it something I said?”  Doc asked.

“Doc,” Annabelle said.

“Yes?” the good doctor asked.

Timidly, Anabelle handed Doc a compact mirror.

“You need to have a look.”

Doc took the compact.  “Good Heavens, people.  I know I don’t strike the most handsome visage but is that any reason to…”

He opened it up and took a look.  “Oh bother.”

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Old West Gun Question

Hey 3.5 Readers.

Writing How the West Was Zombed has made me realize I don’t know a lot about guns, be they from the past or the present.  Kind of difficult as I’m not really a gun person.  I’m clumsy and accident prone, thus fairly certain I’d shoot myself if I ever had one.

It dawned on me it might be worth a trip to a gun range for an afternoon some day if I’m going to persist in my attempts to become a novelist, seeing as how characters often end up shooting guns no matter what time period the novel is set in.

But I’m certain I would shoot myself in the foot so studying the subject from afar will have to do.

But I’ve seen something in many cowboy movies that I’d like to incorporate into the novel but I don’t understand it.

Below is a video of the infamous “Shootout at the OK Corral” scene from Tombstone starring Val Kilmer as Doc Holliday and Kurt Russell as Wyatt Earp.

Tombstone – 1993 – Posted by Thell Reed, Gunman on Youtube

See around 1:40 where Val Kilmer as Doc Holliday slaps the back of his gun a bunch of times real fast?  Clint Eastwood did that in his movies too.

Why did they slap the back of their guns so fast?  I assume it was some kind of a trick to make the gun shoot faster.  If you’re a gun person, please explain it to me.

I’ve searched the Interwebs and alas, there’s not much info about old West shooting.

Part of me wonders how much I need to learn, another part wonders if the reader cares to know much more than a zombie was shot.

By the way, this movie is badass.  Can’t believe it is so old now I remember watching it when it came out like it was yesterday.  This was probably one of Val’s best performances.

Rewatching it this year made me realize I needed to keep pressing on with writing Zombed. Westerns seemed like they were going out of style even in the 1990’s though movies like this one still managed to keep people interested.

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How the West Was Zombed – Chapter 69

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Blake’s head was undead.  His eyes were blank and his teeth were tightly clamped around Townsend’s ankle.  Townsend wiggled his leg back and forth but it was no use.  Blake was like a dog with a bone.

Slade, Gunther and Miles ran over.  Slade brought his boot heal down on Blake’s head over and over again until finally the zombie’s skull cracked and his brain smooshed. Released from Blake’s jaws, Townsend fell backward, but Gunther caught him.

“Drop him,” Miles said.

“What?”  Gunther asked.  The old man locked his arms underneath Townsend’s armpits and dragged him across the room toward a chair in front of the table. 

“Get away from him!”  Miles urged.

Gunther propped Townsend up in the chair and looked at the boy.  “Why would I…”

Before he could finish his sentence, Gunther was tackled to the floor by a viciously feral zombie Townsend.  His eyes too had gone blank and he was growling like a rabid dog.

Townsend took hold of Gunther’s neck and proceeded to squeeze the life out of the old timer.  The zombie’s jaws snapped wildly until a shot rang out.  Blood spattered all over Gunther’s face as he pushed the decapitated corpse off of himself.

Slade standing over him with a smoking pistol was a welcome sight.  Gunther took Slade’s hand and was helped up to his feet.  He coughed and wiped the blood off of his face before getting his bearings again.

“Care to explain?” Gunther asked Miles.

“If a zombie bites you, you will become a zombie,”  Miles said.

As soon as those words made their way into Doc’s ears, the medicine man raised a hand and brushed his fingers over the scratch on his cheek.

“What did you say, young man?”  Doc asked.

“Drinking a vampire’s blood and then dying isn’t the only way to become a zombie,” Miles said.  “A zombie bite will instantly turn a living person into…”

Miles pointed to Townsend’s remains.  “…that.”

“I stand corrected, Miles,” Gunther between deep breathes.  “That shit was too important to have forgotten.”

“I’m sorry,” Miles said.

Gunther slapped the kid on the back.  “I aint dead so don’t mention it.”

“But this man,” Miles said.  “I could have saved him.”

“Could have but didn’t,” Gunther said.  “No use worrying about it now.”

Doc pressed a hand down on the table and pulled himself up only to fall right back down.  Annabelle offered Doc her arm and helped the physician hobble over to survey the carnage.

“How deep of a bite do you wager would cause this dreadful infliction?” Doc asked he he stared down at Townsend’s body.

“I don’t know,” Miles said.

“Dear boy, you must know,” Doc said.

A confused look was all Miles returned until Gunther intervened.

“What are you getting at?”

Doc pointed at his cheek.  “This scratch,”  Doc said.  “The one that you mocked as being of little consequence, Deputy.  It was given to me by the tooth of one of these insipid beasts and I have grown weaker ever since.”

Miles looked Doc over.  “People usually turn right away when they’ve been bitten.”

“Instantly?”  Doc asked.

“Instantly,” Miles answered.

“That is a relief,” Doc said as he took a sip of his Miracle Cure-All.  “Even so, this scratch and my subsequent illness could not be mere coincidental occur…”

Doc dropped to the ground with such force that Annabelle wasn’t able to keep him on his feet.  As he fell, his elixir bottle smashed on the floor in an explosion of glass and murky brown liquid.

Miles’ eyes widened and his nostrils flared.

Annabelle crouched down and lightly slapped Doc’s face.

“Doc?”  Annabelle asked. 

Doc’s eyes opened.  “…ences!”

Annabelle squeezed Doc’s hand.  “Are you ok?”

“Not as such, my dear,”  Doc said.  “I’m not sure what happened.  It was if my entire body simply stopped working then started up again.”

Miles dipped a finger into the spilled elixir and sniffed it.

“What is this?”  Miles asked.

“Oh,” Doc said.  “’Twas my Miracle Cure-All, my dear boy.  An unfortunate waste of medicine to be sure but fear not as I have more.”

“This isn’t medicine,” Miles said.  “This is Blythe.”

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How the West Was Zombed – Parts 1-5

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Hey 3.5 Readers,

My stats indicate some of you checked out the latest chapters and went digging for earlier chapters.

My blog rolls so fast that things often get buried.  So here are Parts 1-5:
PART 1 – The Stand

Marshal Rainier Slade, a genuine stoic who’d prefer to shoot a fella as soon as look at him, is the only man in Highwater willing to face the dastardly Buchanan Boys. Reluctantly, he’s joined by his elderly deputy Gunther and the fast talking snake oil salesman Doctor Elias T. Faraday, who thinks the move would be good publicity.

When a misunderstanding occurs between Slade and Standing Eagle, Chief of a nearby Native American tribe, the Chief translates as his shaman, Wandering Snake, delivers an ominous curse.

Part 2 – Werewolves and Women

Miss Bonnie, owner, proprietor, and prostitute-in-charge of the Bonnie Lass, is the only woman, nay, the only person alive that Slade is willing to come out of his shell for. The rest of the time, he puts on a raspy voice, angry faced persona to the world, figuring that’s the only way for a lawman to survive.

The Marshal fumbles a proposal but still makes it clear that he’d like a relationship with Miss Bonnie. She declines, only to rethink that decision when Slade defends her honor.

Slade finds a new love interest in Sarah Farquhar, a widow who has just moved to town after purchasing a large stretch of farmland. The Widow Farquhar doesn’t hesitate in pursuing Slade as Miss Bonnie did, but she’s not perfect. Slade continues to yearn for Miss Bonnie and has concerns about the Widow’s bible thumping ways, her decree that all sexual activity occur through a hole in a bed sheet in particular.

The Marshal throws caution to the wind and successfully proposes to the Widow Farquhar, only to learn Miss Bonnie has the hots for him too late.

Meanwhile, former slave turned werewolf Joseph Freeman and his teenage son, Miles, also a werewolf, arrive in town. Joseph is looking for work and takes a job assisting Slade and Gunther watch the Buchanan Boys until Judge Sampson arrives to conduct their trial.

All the while, strange reports of monsters are afoot.

Part 3 – The Trial

Judge Sampson, a by the book jurist who’d hang his own mother for stealing a piece of candy, is about to sentence the Buchanan Boys to their doom at the end of a rope when a newcomer arrives in his courtroom.

“Simple country lawyer” Henry Alan Blythe displays a supernatural ability to get people to submit to his will. He convinces the Judge to let the Buchanan Boys off the hook.

Enraged at the injustice, Slade turns in his star. Gunther does so as well out of loyalty, though less forcefully as concerns about ripping his vest get in the way.

Part 4 – History Repeats Itself

Joe Freeman’s past haunts him again and again and his longstanding feud with Blythe is about to come to a head.

Blythe, a villainous vampire/counsel for the Legion Corporation’s board of vampire directors, has dreamed up a scheme to conquer the United States with a zombie army that responds to his will.

But the board’s bureaucratic maneuvering threatens to throw his plan off the rails. His bosses want him to toy with Slade and Freeman, rather than kill them outright.

 Part 5 – Wedding Crashers

Though his heart belongs to fiery redhead Miss Bonnie, Slade just can’t bring himself to say no to his fiance, Sarah “the Widow” Farquhar. Slade and Sarah head to Highwater to plan a wedding for the evening. Actually, Sarah does most of the planning. Slade acts like a depressed hostage.

Meanwhile, a heavily armed and armored train arrives in town. Despite an argument filled with chest puffery, Slade is unable to get any information out of villainous lawyer Blythe.

Smelly Jack crashes Slade and Sarah’s wedding in a big way, though as it turns out, in a much bigger way than expected…

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