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[Well, that's a bit of a spoiler, but yes. This is the story I dreamed about (up in Story Concepts) I'm just hoping to get some feedback on it. This isn't my normal style of writing or genre, so I have no idea what I'm doing ><]

Summary: Halloween night and three teenagers are driving through rural Texas. They stop for fuel and supplies but find a town full of walking dead.

“Man, I could be up to my elbows in free candy right now!”

“Or at least trashed beyond all reason.”

“I don’t really get the allure behind it….”

“What’s not to get? Free. Candy.”

“More like half-naked girls and plenty of booze.”

At that last comment I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Testosterone had made a zombie of my pal, Terrance. Rational thought, logic, and self-control were foreign concepts to this man. He was in constant pursuit of one thing, and I can assure you, it wasn’t brains.

“You wouldn’t know what to do with a half-naked girl even if she was completely naked!”

Oh so witty jab courtesy of zombie number two: Mark. His actions may not have been fueled by testosterone like Terrance’s, but if you don’t believe me that he’s a zombie, just plop him down at a computer with the latest Sims installment.

To avoid an all out scuffle between the two boys, I attempted, as usual, to divert their attention back to me.

“But really, I mean, I don’t get the big deal about Halloween! It’s just an excuse for girls to act slutty and for big candy companies to make a fortune.” I mouthed off disdainfully.

“Duh.” The zombies replied in unison.

“I don’t get what more you want from a holiday, Jen. It seems pretty perfect to me.” Terrance flashed a toothy grin my way, apparently under the impression that a smile would convince me of his line of thinking.

“Oh, I don’t know Terry, maybe some substance? I’m sorry if my hormones don’t dictate that I’m having a good time as long as there’s ample cleavage surrounding me.” He was awarded another eye roll as punctuation for my retort.

“All I know,” Mark interjected smoothly, “is that I would rather be at the worst frat party in the world than out here in the middle of nowhere.” He leaned over the steering wheel looking for any sign of civilization, but it was a fruitless gesture. We really were in the middle of nowhere.

“Well, that’s what you get when you let little Miss ‘I don’t need AAA to map our road trip’ directing us through Texas.”

I tried to find a snappy come-back, but Terrance was right. It had been at least two-hundred miles since we had seen so much as a 7-11.

“Next gas station that comes up, I’m restocking the Mountain Dew.” Mark informed us. “I don’t think filling up the tank would be a bad idea either given the frequency of pit stops available to us.” Terrance and I grunted our agreement as the pavement continued to retreat under the car and the late afternoon sun glared through the windshield.

“Does this state ever end?” Terrance groaned loudly.

Mark answered, decidedly more upbeat, “No! But look!” Terrance and I both followed Mark’s directing digit and saw the green rectangle in all its glory. The sign read: Ambling 15.

“Epic, it’s only fifteen miles away. They’re bound to have a gas station right?” Mark queried glancing my way.

I was already searching the map for the town trying to gauge the size of it, “I dunno, it’s no where on the map.” I shrugged for effect.

Terrance rolled his eyes, “So cliché: Halloween night, a group of teenagers, a middle of nowhere town that isn’t on the map. What next? A distant wolf howling at the full moon? Step on the gas Mark, I need out of this car.”

In a mixture of annoyance and amusement I stifled a snicker and watched longingly for the exit to appear; the landscape wasn’t broken by so much as a tumbleweed, it was just endless nothingness.

Mark must have really stepped on the gas without me noticing the change in speed because it seemed like no time at all when we were pulling off the interstate and up to a locally owned gas station. Terrance hopped out of our beat up sedan, procured specifically for this journey, and wandered over to the pump while Mark headed into the store.

Once Mark reached the door he stopped and glanced back at us, “Store’s closed!” His voice was drenched in disappointment. “Isn’t that just our luck.” He added dejectedly.

“Well, let’s just drive around town and see if there’s another one,” I chimed in helpfully.

“Let’s hope so, we’re pretty low on fuel,” Terrance added unhelpfully.

“You know, you really are a ray of sunshine Terry, what would we ever do without you?” I couldn’t contain my snippy response.

“Be woefully lost in the dark, since you would die before reaching for a flashlight. You would probably expect yourself to start magically radiating light in your manic aversion to accepting assistance,” he spat back.

Mark, meanwhile, had climbed back into the car and started the engine, “If you two are quite done…”

“I had more…” Terrance pouted.

Still fuming I nabbed the front seat and slammed the door behind me. Rapidly, Terrance joined us in the vehicle and we were off.

After driving a few blocks without seeing any other stations or people, our mission was beginning to look bleak. “This town is kind of dead…” I muttered, wondering where all the inhabitants were.

“Look there!” Mark, apparently our official sign spotter, had located a ’Welcome to Ambling, TX’ notice, the second line read ’Population 1,374’.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Terrance scoffed, “Looks like a total ghost town.”

“Wrong again, oh unobservant one,” it was my turn to spot something helpful, “it looks like they’re having a fair or something over there. See? They’re all gathered around that stage.”

“Oh yeah! Let’s see what’s happening, maybe this wasn’t a totally wasted holiday,” Mark rejoiced.

“Find a parking spot!” Terrance’s mood also seemed to have thawed.
By the time we found a parking spot and made our way to the throng of people, the sun was beginning to set, turning the sky scarlet. Once we were in a position to see the bandstand, it was obvious that there wasn’t anything terribly exciting going on. A man in traditional Texan garb -- blue jeans, boots, cowboy hat and button up shirt -- held the microphone and was trying to make some sort of announcement while being constantly interrupted and joked with by a second man on stage. The second man was dressed nearly identically to the first, but he also sported a bushy white mustache.

“As I was saying,” the non-mustached man bellowed in a thick southern drawl, “this year our prizes have been graciously donated by Thrifty Mart, so thank you Ted for that.” There was a smattering of applause through the crowd, but everyone seemed a bit anxious. The sun dipped below the horizon entirely.

“And don’t forget, Jerry’s got supplies over there if you need any--” But what exactly Jerry was offering we didn’t find out. There was palpable tension as the speaker looked over to his mustachioed comrade and a silence fell over the crowd. “Looks like someone wanted to get started without us,” and before I knew what had happened, the man with the microphone pulled out a pistol and shot bushy mustache man cleanly through the head, the sound echoing through the crowd.

In complete shock I looked over at my friends who seemed just as flabbergasted as I was. Terrance regained his composure slightly and smirked at my bewildered expression. “Jen,” he whispered, “It’s all special effects, it’s Halloween remember? Look around, no one looks surprised.”

Sure enough, when I looked around, the townspeople of Ambling seemed completely unfazed. I shook my head and tugged on Terrance’s sleeve, “Look though,” I implored, gesturing around me, “everyone else has one too…” My observation apparently shook Terrance slightly as he realized that every single person surrounding us was carrying some sort of gun.

“Yeah, but it’s Texas, remember?” He made an attempt at a joke, but I could tell he was feeling uncomfortable.

The crowd began to disburse and I glanced nervously at Terrance, “Maybe we should just go… Where’s Mark?” Panic swept through me as I searched for my best friend in the sea of gun-toting strangers.

“Jen, chill, I’m sure he’s just looking around,” Terrance noticed the distress in my features.

Before I had time for my panic to escalate I saw Mark’s blonde head and lanky frame moving through the crowd toward us. When he was fully in view I saw that he was no carrying an oversized bulging bag.

“What’s that?” I inquired toward the sack. Mark answered by pulling out a shotgun.

“Holy s**t!” Terrance found the words that my mouth couldn’t form. “What the hell dude?” He exclaimed as he began rifling through the bag.

I stood in shock as Mark explained: “I found that guy, Jerry, he’s handing these out like candy. This is an AA12, I know it from Modern Warfare 2. Pretty awesome right?” His smile was huge, and Terrance nodded his assent, pulling out his own gun.

“Oh man, a SAW. Nice.” He hefted the large gun, testing out the weight in his arms. It looked to weigh at least twenty pounds.

“A what?” I muttered, still flabbergasted.

“M249 Squad Automatic Weapon. SAW.” Mark answered and paused before pulling out a considerably smaller weapon, this one I recognized as a Glock. “Here, Jen, it’s a nine mil, should be perfect for you. And an extra magazine.”
I took the gun from him and fumbled putting the extra ammunition in my pocket, not sure why I was doing it. “What are we doing with these?” My eyes were unfocused and I suddenly realized that there were gunshots being fired all around.

“Jerry said that they do this every Halloween. It’s like a game. The people with red eyes have to be shot--” Mark replied and I opened my mouth to protest finally but he cut me off, “No. No hesitation; just shoot. Red eyes. At the end they give out prizes and stuff for creativity.” He still sounded like he had been given a pony for Christmas.

“Mark.” I grounded out through clenched teeth, “This is real life this isn’t your games. People are going to die if you shoot them.”

To my surprise, the man that I had always considered to be reasonable and level-headed, if anti-social, merely shrugged in response. “They do this every year. That guy on stage was the Sherriff. I don’t know what more you want.” He began to walk away, the gun held at the ready for his first victim.

“At least stick with us, Jen. And hold on to that,” Terrance motioned to the Glock in my hand, “Extra protection never hurt,” he winked at me and followed after Mark. I couldn’t help but wonder why we didn’t just leave town, but Mark had the keys, so I stalked behind them.

For the next twenty minutes or so, I watched in amazement as local people talked to one another as if nothing unordinary was happening and suddenly one would shoot the other cleanly through the head. Somehow it seemed barbaric and completely civilized all at once.

We continued walking, Mark realizing it wasn’t the apocalypse he anticipated, Terrance trying to catch the attention of some short-skirted girl, and me, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. I was knocked out of my reverie when I heard a shot very close to me; I turned to see what had happened.

“Score one for me!” Mark shouted triumphantly over the now fallen body of a middle-aged woman. I didn’t even have time to react to the death before Mark was shooting again, this time at a guy nearly our age. Mark’s laughter that followed made chills run down my spine.

“Terry, make him stop,” I whined. But Terry was paying me no attention. He had spotted a twenty-something blonde wearing a red dress she probably had trouble breathing in, let alone making sure she wasn’t exposing her under things and a pair of over-sized sunglasses.

Terrance was obviously trying to get her attention and completely disregarding me, “Terry…” but I went unnoticed again as the blonde smiled at him coquettishly. Before I knew what I was doing I had raised my handgun and seconds later a small dime-sized hole appeared in the middle of her forehead. As she crumpled to the ground Terrance turned to me enraged.

“What the hell, Jen?” He shouted, miraculously not garnering everyone’s attention since they were otherwise occupied.

I shrugged, “She was wearing sunglasses, better safe than sorry.” I didn’t bother to stick around to hear any further protests, I just hurried after Mark, not wanting the group to be separated.

Without fail Terrance joined us in our wanderings around the small town. Every now and then a stranger would ask to see our eyes, but other than that we were undisturbed. As the night wore on our killings became more frequent. Terrance had yet to shoot anyone, still fuming about his would-be copulation partner, but I had managed to empty all thirty-one rounds in my first magazine and Mark was helping me reload when Terrance tried to get our attention.

“Hey, guys?”
“Busy Terry.” Mark answered.

“Guys…?” His voice seemed more desperate.

Mark growled, “I’m busy!” It wasn’t that reloading the gun took much time, but he was trying to teach me a few different things since I had been completely winging it up to that point.

Suddenly there was an ear-splitting bang and Terrance was on the ground at our feet, his face turning pink rapidly.

“What are you doing?” Mark squeaked out trying to contain his laughter until he knew our friend was free of harm. We both looked in the direction of where Terrance had been standing as he pulled himself off the ground. There was an overweight man in his mid to late fifties with a snow white beard and a shiny head now surrounded by a pool of blood.

“This thing has a hell of a kick to it.” Terrance griped, rubbing his shoulder absently.

Mark and I both burst out laughing and Terrance gave us a rueful grin. “Thanks for the words of encouragement, guys.”

“That’s what you get for grabbing the macho gun.” I smirked so he knew I was only teasing him, despite the truth of my words.

The sky began to lighten and the maelstrom of guns firing into the night slowly tapered off. The people, considerably fewer in number, made their way back to the bandstand. The two boys and I followed, picking our way carefully through the bodies that littered the ground.

“Man, the guy that runs the morgue is gonna be pissed,” Mark joked. I managed a half smile in response.

“Yeah, but the funeral director is gonna make a fortune!” Terrance added. I rolled my eyes, knowing that this night had been extraordinarily strange.

Once we were mingled in amongst the crowd, we could hear peoples’ conversations. Everyone was talking rather excitedly, glad to be survivors of the night. Two teenage boys near us seemed even happier than the rest, but judging by Mark’s grin they too had probably just had all their gaming fantasies fulfilled.

“Did you see Mr. Roper off Ms. Geraldine?” One questioned excitedly.

“Hell yeah! No more Chem for us!” The two high-fived to boast their enthusiasm.

The man that I now knew to be the Sherriff of Ambling now took the stage. He turned on the microphone and there was a momentary squeal of feedback before he found his sweet spot on stage and began talking.

“Alright everybody! Did y’all have a good time?” The group collectively affirmed that they had indeed had a good time with the whoops and hollers that ensued.

“Good, good. Well, since I lost my deputy, I’m gonna have to be giving out the prizes myself this year. So, most kills goes to Sharon.” A smattering of applause followed, “Most kills from inside a truck goes to Donnie --” at this announcement there was a loud yell from the back of the crowd.

“Hey! What about me?!” Another heavy southern accent called out to the Sherriff. The Sherriff chuckled out his response.

“No, Larry, a tractor doesn’t count as a truck.” The crowd roared with laughter.
I felt uncomfortable that they were so nonchalant about the entire ordeal. “Come on Mark, let’s get going,” I pleaded, but his eyes didn’t stray from the stage.

“No, I want to see if I won something!” He replied.

“Fine,” an exasperated sigh escaped my lips. I tried to tune out the amplified voice of the Sherriff, I wanted to ignore their disturbing celebration. I wanted to forget that I had willingly participated. I felt like I was just now resuming full control of my brain in the early morning light.

“Jen, you won something!” Terrance brought me out of my pensive state.

“This little lady was the most gung-ho of any Yankee I’ve seen in all my years,” the Sherriff was apparently talking about me, “Ted’s agreed to give them a free tank of gas as an extra prize.”

“Nice job,” Mark congratulated me. I didn’t feel like I deserved to win anything. I just wanted to get out of Ambling as quickly as possible.

The Sherriff closed out the ceremony announcing that the winners could come to him for their prizes. “Y’all did a great job of keeping our town free of zombies,” he grinned at me moments later after he had descended from the stage, “We don’t often get out-of-towners joining in, but we appreciate it.”

My mouth was still dry so I only nodded. The law enforcement officer shook all of our hands and wandered back over to his townsfolk and my friends and I went off to our vehicle.

None of us said anything on the short drive to the gas station, Mark and Terrance still looked euphoric and I felt completely detached. Terrance got out to pump the gas, Mark to restock on food and Mountain Dew, and I exited to the restroom.

After relieving myself and washing my hands I splashed cold water in my face and dried it off with a paper towel. For a split second in the mirror, my turquoise eyes flashed crimson, but when I looked again they were back to normal and I was unsure that they had changed at all.

It's all done now... hope y'all like it.