I’m going to take a step BACK this week in the Zombie Bunny story/time line. This week’s ZB fix takes place between Episodes 4 and 5 (I have links below that line ’em all up for you).
Plus I am off to the other side of the country (San Diego) tomorrow for a week, so take a moment if you please and revisit the story from the beginning. [Note that I have tried my best to keep consistent ;)] I might not be writing, but I will try and check up on you all from my phone.
The scents and sights of decay intensified as they reached the farm. At first it was the expected rancid dumpster stench that defined rotting vegetables, but a thick almost sweetly metallic fragrance, less familiar to the layman, lingered at the olfactory scale.
Agents Un, Dewey and Trippi were familiar with it. Sometimes they caused it.
The agents fanned out across the cabbage field, in sight of one another; Un took center, Trippi the right to the silo and Dewey to the left to the house and barn. A fourth, agent Pfeiffer, stayed behind in his hazmat suit, taking samples of the crops, and the pellets that illuminated even on this sunny day. Cicadas rustled in the trees and bushes dotted along the property.
“Status?” the voice in their earbuds was not any of theirs; The Director was at HQ, monitoring the situation.
“No sign of anything living…or not,” Un whispered. “Crops rotting faster in proximity to pellets,” Pfeiffer added. Un glanced towards Trippi, who was moving too quickly to the silo. “Trip, stay sharp.” He wasn’t nervous, but he started when a leafy vegetable flickered in the breeze just outside his vision.
Un’s checkpoint was a scarecrow dangling crookedly from its perch. He reached it, humorlessly noted the Carrot Top likeness, and scanned the farmland.
Dewey was at his point, but was idling along a dirt path between the house and barn. “I got bunny bodies…” he reported.
“Dewey, house is priority, get there now.” Even within his whisper, the authority was clear. I’m not going to let the rules slide on a dipshit recon mission, he thought bitterly, knowing the Director was hearing these lapses and would give him hell, even if they foun…
Un interrupted himself as he realized the cicada’s chirping had ceased, and a low continuous squeaking had taken its place. He scanned each direction, but couldn’t pin a location in the open field.
“We’ve got company,” he muttered darkly, not noticing the scarecrow’s red hair shuffling.
The Zombie Bunny Entries: