Zombie Survival Story

As we left off from our earlier story, John, Marci, myself, and Richard ducked under a heavily fortified bale of hay directly beside and behind the automatic turret. In the 20 minutes it had been operation, we had loaded the gun three times and it cleanly cut through three hundred half dead animals and people. There was blood everywhere. As we heard an enormous unholy roar in the distance we all looked to each other with horror in the eyes. "Guys, seriously, we need to get the fuck out of here, NOW!" Marci yelled, gathering up the ammunition and diving below a man-made trench. I followed her but John and Richard lingered above, gazing over the far distant lands of blasted office buildings, ruined fields of crops, and dead farm animals everywhere. The infected were there too, but were oblivious to the new noise around them. They were simply enjoying the fresh meat off any unlucky survivors they stumbled across hiding in abandoned vehicles. 

In my mind's eye I immediately saw a very detailed picture of four men on differently colored horses. They looked like steely Gods, all of them. They held a grimace of unweilding pain and fury under their lips and furrowed brows. One used a golden bow, another held a platinum trident, another a long gilded spear of light, and finally, the lone black rider held a menacing scythe. 

As quick as the image appeared in my mind it disappeared. But I'll never forget the feeling I had when my eyes met with the riding strangers. Absolute cold and hate. But there was something else, something righteous about these riders, something about where they came from which would say "Oh, THAT's why such-and-such cut his arm off at the gas station!" sort of thing. Below the riders were hundreds and hundreds of dead men and women. Some were chopped to pieces by their weapons, others lay down in what appeared to be an eternal sleep. 

And then something incredibly creepy happened. The black man with the scythe on the black horse raised his scythe towards me and motioned to cutting off a head. It then raised a finger and demonstrated where my head was going to be.... and promptly swung the massive blade down and cut off his OWN middle finger. No blood oozed out. He didn't even seem remotely affected by any pain.

And as quick as they appeared, the image in my mind was replaced by a small, calm lake. I felt like i had just rested for a week. I smelled like flowers and I had a very pronounced lift to my walk. And then, I heard the sweetest female voice I have ever heard whisper something into my ear as I was cleaning my muddy boots. It said this:"You are raised from retribution and forgiven".I passed out after that and woke up to Marci splashing water on my face...