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Chapter 5:
Pale Faces

The sun was now blindingly bright in the distance. The fact Larry was lacking sleep was becoming more and more apparent as his struggled against his will to keep them open. He could feel his pupils stinging from the natural light like a thousand pins using his eyeballs as pin cushions. All the while his ears were being abused by two men who were, at that very moment, sawing a zombie's skull from its shoulders. The sight was rather repulsive but it was in the direction opposite the smirking sun; Larry had no choice but to watch the father and child decapitate the undead victim.

"Can you believe this mongrel, couldn't even wait till the grocery store before he needed to turn cannibal to feed his fat face," the son of his former employer was finding the act of beheading rather amusing.
By social standards Larry should have been appalled at the inappropriate joke and yet he couldn't help finding himself nodding to the truth behind the absurd words. They had now killed three zombies since departing the accounting-firm lobby, all of which had been obese. It wasn't really a surprise the overweight would be turned first, too fat to run away and too busy stuffing their faces to be concerned about other's stuffing their face with their face.  This had been highly evident when they'd first left the building after the first encounter. Across the road the fast-food restaurant was filled with the moving Zombified lubber, all too stupid to work out how to open the door. It was hard to be afraid of an enemy that was too dumb to work out how to get to its prey and too wide in girth to give chase. Instead all Larry could do was mumble about his lack of sleep and present company while turning to look at the pale face of Steven.

It would seem that the useless security guard of 'Gazza Accounting' had also come to the realisation that the overweight were being turned first. Steven wasn't on the light side of the scales and he knew it; the terrible realisation that his lazy lifestyle was probably going to be the death of him, was now dawning on him. For some reason Larry found himself smiling at that pale fear. Not wanting to show the fact he was amused at the concept of the oaf having his skull munched through he turned his eyes back to the zombie the two Australian's had now finished butchering.
"Maybe we should cut of some of his rump and turn it into steaks." Again the father and son were laughing as they wiped their barbaric instruments clean.
The tired accountant had noticed it before but now he finally realised why the two cutting of the undead's head had been so repulsive. It wasn't the sole fact the two were enjoying themselves more than would be considered appropriate; it was how unnatural the scene was. There was not an ounce of blood dripping from the severed head; it was just a lump of dried meat left lying motionless on the ground. Not a drop of red anywhere on the bitumen "Interesting."

Casually Larry made his way towards the zombie's carcase and knelt before it. He pulled out his pen, a tool that was becoming rather useful in the circumstances, and prodded the flesh and meat. "You ain't actually planin' to try eat that, right mate?"
The poor use of English barely bothered Lloyd as he prodded the lifeless skull. The strange oil substance was apparent again inside the head, a little less than the first Zombie he'd fell with the swift stroke of a wooden door. Curiously he put his hand on the dead man's chest, as was expected there was no heartbeat. "Well this would explain their pale skin but how do they function? What exactly is this electrified ooze?"
"Ah, I don't know? Why would you ask me?"
"Bloody hell Steve I'm pretty damn certain he was bein' rhetorical."
"He dad you got some retards working for yah!"
"He's security, he don't need brains. Although who the hell hired yah anyway, you don't even have any brawn to yah."
Steven looked close to crying, the only thought that crossed Larry's mind was, how pathetic.
"That really hurt, can't you be more-"
"Ah stop yah whinging, grow some balls"
Rising from his kneeling position he stared at his former employer "Alright that's enough! Also a Rhetorical question would be if I were trying to make a point with no reply."
"Ha ha, well if my temp replacement hasn't grown a pair in my absence." Garry bellowed with laughter before turning towards Steven, "See that, now that's what a set of balls looks like." Turning away he cursed in an unusual tone. Everyone turned their head in the direction of the monstrous sun, underneath its glow walked eight of its minions just as evilly.
"Any of you bastards got any shotgun pellets?"

"Wait you mean that fucking thing's unloaded?" Steven questioned in a high pitched shrill.
"I spent them already on a group of them earlier."
"Somehow I don't think my pen is going to be very helpful in this situation; to answer your question no I do not have any shotgun ammunition on me."
"Well boy, want to play a game?"
"Bloody oath, highest kills win!"
"You two going to join in?"
"You're shitting me right!?
"While I dislike his swearing I have to place caution before reckless..." Larry waved his hand at the two stereotypical Australians, "Whatever this is that stimulates you so."
"Stimulates? That would be a blond bimbo. This is just fun as fuck?"
Brandishing his cleavers Gary sprinted after his son already caving in one of the eight skulls with his hefty bat.
Chapter 4 of my Zombie Sunday novel, forgot to upload yesterday. Next Chapter will introduce a new character and start getting a bit more on the action-y side. I really need to go through and Grammar check this and the previous chapter.

Nothing really happened this chapter, just character development, and not even much of that. =S
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April 30, 2012
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