And now onto my latest project, finishing a zombie story my dad and I outlined years ago.

     Strapped into the truck I couldn’t wait to get out of the protection of the airport and start shooting. “Remember, aim for the head. That is the only way to kill them,” I shouted even though everyone already knew how to kill them. I just wanted to feel like guys in movies who shout some sort of instruction right before a battle. It was cheesy, but I felt great.

         “We’re not going out to kill zombies Pete,” Johnson scolded, “just to get the lab supplies.”

         “That’s why you’re going. Someone’s got to keep you morons alive. Just drive the truck.”

         I didn’t see him, but he probably rolled his eyes. No matter, because he started the truck all the same and headed down the runway. I never really noticed how long the runway was until we were driving it, but it was huge. Looking at the terminal from the backside was different too. I could see dozens of people in there watching us as we tore down the flight line. They were the people I was supposed to be looking after. I got the sense that we weren’t going to make it. There were too many of them to protect in a place like that for very long. Then I saw one of the planes sitting by the terminal. Finally it hit me. We could try and fly out of Fresno. I was going to work on that when we were done with the hunting expedition—I mean supply mission.

         Finally we were at the end of the runway and fortunately Johnson had keys to the gate as it was near the Air National Guard center. As it turned out there were a couple of ghouls stumbling around on the other side. I was about to waste them when the soldier on the roof let loose with a burst and sent a few bullets through them. Johnson hopped out to unlock the gate as the two zombies struggled to their feet. Another volley of rounds was let loose from the SAW, and I was getting frustrated.         “Listen Rambo!” I shouted up at him. “Take your finger off the trigger until you are ready to shoot them in the head and be done with it. Otherwise you are just wasting ammo.” I couldn’t believe how slow some people were. He figured it out though and moved the selector to semi-auto and fired a few more rounds at them until it appeared they were finished. Johnson finished with the gate, drove us through and then closed it behind us.

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