The zombies want brains, the zombies want skin, the zombies want guts and blood. The zombies want human flesh. The zombies want us with the passion of lovers, with the passion of living. The zombies want life. In our sweet flesh the zombies bury their faces, seeking the spark we keep within us, taking us into their many arms, their lips and faces, their searching, rending fingers, the lust for food, for flesh, for life, to live to breathe, to rot, to stink, to stumble forward.
The zombies are coming, and we hide in our houses, the zombies have come, and we are on a boat, a plane, behind a wall. The zombies are coming and we are holed up in a mall, in a warehouse, in a church. The zombies are knocking on stained glass, revolving doors; the zombies are coming to the bar where we boarded up the windows and the doors, living on beer behind a barricade. The zombies are coming to the farm and all we have are pitchforks. The zombies want to live in our houses, the zombies are rocking the car, the zombies are outside the tank, the zombies are coming, unstoppable.
-From Love Letter, my contribution to the Gimme Shelter anthology of zombie fiction.
I have been laying out Gimme Shelter today, and I am so pleased with the fiction for this book. The anthology is going out to all our kickstarter supporters, but hopefully, we’ll be able to get it out for general purchase as well. I don’t know the details on that yet, but when I find out, I’ll post it. These stories are so good, that they really need to be shared.
My own story, Love Letter, is something I may record and put up, because I think it’s something that might be better heard than read. When I first thought of Love Letter, I recited bits of it to myself and tried to remember it long enough to get to a notebook so I could write it down.