The Killing Fields on Kindle!!!!

The Killing Fields, now known by its new and final title, Undead Explosion: Dead Place, is available on Kindle for the low price of $2.99!!!

Oh, yeah, if I forgot to mention, the book's done, now. Sorry. I'm still posting it on my other Undead Explosion, but you can buy the whole thing on Kindle.

http://www.amazon.com/Undead-Explosion-Dead-Place-ebook/dp/B006Y1OBEA/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1327091969&sr=8-1

R.I.P. Undead Explosion

Alright. This is it. This is my last post on this blog. Undeadexplosion.blogspot.com is officially dead. Remember, http://stories.dreamfantastic.com/undeadexplosion is where you'll find me now. I suggest you all visit there (and by all, I mean the invariably one person who still gives half a shit about this blog). It's with great sadness that I do this. I've got so many fond memories and a lot of writing has gone through ths blog. But, as time passes and readers stray away (to be honest, it's probably my fault for putting "Hiatus" in a post), I've felt the need to move on to a new blog. One that, hopefully, will give me more readers.

So, as I post this eulogy for my previous blog and return to new one, know this: the phoenix has carried Undead Explosion to a new home, a prosperous home (I hope), and zombies never truly die. One day, soon, you'll see me on Amazon, where Kindle readers can pay money to read the shit that I shovel on the internet for people to read for free. Just like one of my zombies, I won't die until somebody puts that bullet in my skull.

I hope you've enjoyed.

Josh.

Undead Explosion - On Dream Fantastic!

Okay, faithful readers (all 2 of you), I'd like you to point your browsers to stories.dreamfantastic.com/undeadexplosion - A new Undead Explosion, which will eventually supercede this one. So far, I've published two chapters of The Killing Fields (the prologue and chapter 1), and an exclusive short story called "Down Below". More content to follow, but I wouldn't be surprised if it ends up like this one, eventually.

Zombie Diapers

If you haven't done so yet, head on over to Cassandra Stryffe's Zombie Diapers (link at the bottom of the page, in the Other Places to Get Your Dead On section). It's a tale of a girl named Liz, unwittingly thrust into the world of zombies who also has to take car of a former survivor's baby daughter. It's a well-told tale, and seeing as how Cassandra's being nice and sending peoply my way, I'd like to send some of my people her way. She asked me to write a short story for her, which I called "Angie's Tale". It is on her site, and takes place in her universe.

The Killing Fields, Chapter 16

Now, you're all being such good sports, y'know, ignoring me while I continue to write a book to entetain you people. Anyway, since I figured, you'd gone long enough without updates pertaining to The Killing  Fields, here's chapter 16.

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Alan stumbled to a stop about a mile away from that cemetary. He took a moment to catch his breath before looking around for zombies. Thankfully, he saw none. Also thankfully, no Jim. Goddamn, am I glad about that. Bastard was nuts. He sat down on the sidewalk. Now where do I go?

The streets, for the most part, weren't safe, and the direction of Jim's cemetary was a clear no. The only places left were the sewer or the subway. He hated sewers, so that was his last resort. The last option was the subways. The Red Line was only two blocks away.

Alan stood up and limped his way toward the subway station. As he rounded the corner, the subway was in sight—but so was a zombie. It saw him and turned its half-body in his direction. It grunted and limped toward him on a severely broken leg. Alan put up his arms to fight if off, but a gunshot rang out. The zombie went down, its brain splattered against the wall to Alan's left.

Alan pulled out the handgun that Jim had stolen for him and aimed in the general direction of the gunshot. Two people in gasmasks lowered their rifles. "Citizen, lower your weapon." Alan slowly lowered his handgun. "Come with us."

Alan limped behind the two men—SWAT officers, by their vests—down into the subway, where two soldiers patted him down and checked him for bites. "Where did this gunshot wound come from?" one asked.

"Asshole with a shotgun."

The soldier nodded to his superior, who waved Alan over. He did as he was told and limped over to a bald guy with a moon-shaped scar on his forehead. He introduced himself as Colonel Brandon.

"Tell me how you've survived."

"That asshole with the shotgun," he held up his handgun, "and this. Plus determination to find my sister."

The colonel snapped his fingers and produced a clipboard with a list from another SWAT officer. "Her name?"

"Nancy Frakes."

"Outpost Ceti, north side. It was overrun two hours ago."

"What?!"

"She may have survived. A number of civilians escaped before the sanitation."


He thought, Goddamn... I hope she's okay...


Alan looked around and saw dozens of people—men, women, children—all with sullen looks on their faces. Only a few adults were talking, only a few children playing. The teenagers weren't really doing anything. Most people were just standing or sitting. He hoped no place else looked like this.

He limped over to a wall with no people and sat down. His thoughts drifted to Nancy. She was still missing. Still gone, and he had no idea where she even could be. The city was huge, with over a million inhabitants (small compared to New York or LA, but huge to some people), and God knows how many had become zombies.

She could be dead, in the middle of the road.

***

Nancy stopped the car in front of her and Alan's house. The lights were out, giving the place a very dead look. As if the whole city doesn't have a dead look, she thought. She shivered.

Samson got out of the car and walked around to her side. "C'mon, huh, let's go check for your brother."

Nancy felt a whole hell of a lot safer with Samson along. One, he had a gun; two, he wanted her to feel safer, and she didn't want to disappoint him. She felt as though helping and protecting her was the only thing keeping him sane, the only thing keeping him going.

She got out of the car and walked slowly up to the house. Her heart was thumping in her chest. She reached for the door—

—and it was locked.

"Fuck!" she shouted. "I forgot my fucking key!"

"There isn't one under the welcome mat or something?"

"No. Alan doesn't believe in that shit."

***

Alan was alone for some time before a woman his age sat down next to him. She was wearing brown cargo pants, a white tank top and a brown jacket. "Hi, there."

"Hi," Alan said, not nearly as cheery as her. "Sorry if I'm shit company."

"Who isn't?"

"Sombody not worried sick about his little sister."

"Who isn't worried about someone? A father, a husband, a sister or a cousin. I'm worried about my parents. This is just what happens when the world ends."

Alan chuckled. "When the world ends... Is this really everywhere?"

"I don't know. I just know what I've seen. If the world isn't coming to an end, what is happening?"

He turned to her. "Alan."

"Britney."

"Welcome to the end of the world, Britney."

Dead Land (not a story, a blog)

Anybody who still reads this blog (I'm not sure if anybody really does), go check out my other blog, called Dead Land (dead-land.blogspot.com), where you can find even more zombie stories by me. These are different, however, and the differences are laid out in the opening post, so I won't go into any details here. I hope you enjoy it. One story is up right now, with more to come someday.

Get Your Name In The Killing Fields (or a short story I write someday)

Okay, the wallpapers are kinda going slow (to be honest, I forgot to even take the fucking pictures...). Anyway, so, now I'm going to issue a contest.

If you would like to see your name in The Killing Fields, either as a survivor or somebody who dies a horrible death (my choosing), please do the following:

1) Give me your name (no brainer)

2) Tell me what you think is going to happen throughout the rest of the book

Whoever gets it closest will win and get their name in the book (or in some short story I have yet to write and will someday). More than one person can win, it all depends on your answer for number 2. Your response must be a comment, and I'm going to put a stop to the contest on May 5th (Cinco de Mayo, for those of you who celebrate it). By then, I should pretty much be done with the book and will just have to change some names around to accomodate the contest winners.

Please enjoy, everybody.