The moon lit up the camp as the man slept lightly, always remaining vigil. He had chosen to remain on his own, ever since the beginning of the undead apocalypse. He had always been somewhat of a loner. He had no wife, no family to speak of on the island. He thought to himself, amidst the chaos of the unravelling of society that he ought to remain alone, and out of sight of the military. For the military, during this time, was acting on its own behalf. No orders from Washington, no higher ups, no red tape, no morals to distract them from their task at hand. The military's only perspective was to eliminate the threat of the undead and other survivors alike. Mass murders occurred at the points of their weapons. Selfishly hoarding any and all supplies they could find, to ensure their own survival they pried weapons, food, water and ammo out of their victim's lifeless hands. The light from the small camp fire slowly faded as the fire dwindled and fell to ashes.
An excerpt from my upcoming zombie short story! I hope you enjoy it, and check out the full story when it is done.
'amidst the chaos of the unravelling of society that he ought to remain alone' Because of word structure alone, that one line felt faster than the rest of the piece. Otherwise awsome stuff!
Thank you for the input I shall fix that first thing. I have read some of your stuff as well, Nexus is very interesting. I have been on hold for a while as well, haven't been reading/writing as much.