Oasis: Chapter 33
[note: Sorry about the lateness of this one. Today has been crazy. If you are new to Oasis, start with Chapter 1.]

Help And Red Shoes
The yelling got louder.
I knew they had to be close, so I slowed down and kept moving toward the sound. I still wasn’t sure why I was going or what I was going to do when I got there.
Three flares shot up into the air in rapid succession. They came from close by, probably just around to the other side of the block.
I hugged the brick wall of the insurance office on the corner and peeked around.
There was a row of stores, mostly antique dealerships and oriental rug shops, all of whose windows had been smashed. Nestled toward the center was a two-story apartment building.
Gathered around the front door of the apartment building was a mob of perhaps ten deads. They were pounding tirelessly at what was left of the front door.
I couldn’t be certain, but it appeared that there was at least one survivor on the other side trying to sure up the door with a table.
Two teenage girls and one middle aged man were at the windows on the second floor, calling for help.
I recoiled, closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
What am I doing here?
I felt a sudden rush of guilt for attacking Carl and his son. I wasn’t a violent person. I had already spent a good portion of my life saving others. Now I seemed to be thrust into situation after situation where I had no other choice but to hurt.
No, I had a choice.
That alone was enough to make me feel sick inside.
Maybe I was trying to make up for my mistakes by helping out here. But what could I do?
Only one thing to do.
I tightened the straps of my backpack, held the bat so I could swing it hard, and stepped around the corner.
One of the girls caught site of me and screamed all the louder.
I took a few steps and looked up. “Get back inside! I’ll try to lead them away!”
What am I doing?
I pushed away the doubt and listened to my gut. I had to do something.
Even with the yelling, the deads didn’t seem to notice me.
I would have to do something more drastic.
The yellers disappeared into the building.
It was up to me.
I set my jaw and clenched the bat.
“Hey! Come get me!”
They still didn’t notice. At least, none of them turned my way.
I marched up to just a few feet behind them and froze.
I caught a glimpse of frightened eyes as the table shifted and survivors struggled to get it back in place.
“Listen to me!” I took a step and I took a swing.
Right in the back of the head. Just like with Beth’s infected uncle.
The infected body crumpled to the ground.
The three closest deads turned and grabbed out at me.
I scrambled back. “Come on!”
The closest dead missed me by at least a couple of inches.
I took another two steps back. “You want some of this?”
Two deads stepped toward me. The closest one crouched as if to dive.
I shuffled back and held the bat high.
The dead man pounced.
I brought down the bat.
I caught him mid-air.
Right on top of the head.
The bat made a satisfying “clonk” sound and shook in my hands.
His hands brushed my arms on his quick trip down.
No time to celebrate.
The second dead crouched.
I stumbled backwards, hoping to get out of range.
It was enough, but I lost my balance and fell onto my butt. The bat slipped out of my hand and flew somewhere behind me.
The second dead hit the ground at the same time I did, groping out for my leg. The third just kept walking. The other six still pressed on the door.
I rolled over and pushed to my feet like a sprinter.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement down the street.
The second dead raised up on her hands and the third pressed forward.
I ran for the fallen bat and took another glance at the movement down the street.
Several blocks down and running toward me was a man carried by two red shoes. Shoes I had seen before.
What does the red-shoed man want? Continue on to “Chapter 34: Rescue Operation“I am just sure Oasis could work as a musical. You want proof? Go listen to “RE: Your Brains” by Johnathan Coulton. (Its the link that says “Re Your Brains” on his post…)
That being said, I’d be happy with a scifi network miniseries. So go talk to your people and see what you can do for me.
Or at least tell someone about Oasis. What, do I have to beg?
Tags: pulp fiction, Serial Fiction, zombie fiction





December 7th, 2007 at 3:21 pm
Hey, Bryce, nice job. Good tension and suspense. Here’s a tiny problem:
Three res flares shot up…
December 8th, 2007 at 12:36 am
wow
amazing
your really good
man i wish i could write like your for my englush stuff ….
December 8th, 2007 at 8:44 am
Good one Bryce…leaving us hanging again..as usual. Gotta love it! Keep it up!
December 9th, 2007 at 1:54 pm
Nothing like a little Corbin on zombie action to brighten my day. Good work.