Not a Hero

Opening to my Zombie story.

I’m not actually a hero. I know that some of you think I am, but you’re wrong. In fact, in many ways I’m a coward. I have a tendency to run. I run from most conflicts, from bill collectors, from my boss, from my wife, from my kids, from most everything. I don’t say no to anyone or stand up for myself. I basically let other people tell me what to do. I hate to spoil the story before it begins but I didn’t want to lead you on this whole time. I am not a leader or a great man. I wanted to be. For a moment I thought I was but in the end it all collapsed. It all ended where it started really and I was no better. I survived is all. But that’s why you’re reading this. You want to know how I survived. You want to hear from the guy who made it. You want to read the story of the man who conquered the zombies. You want to know what really happened because there are a lot of accounts of that event that are confusing or worse “official.” But there is only one true story and I have it. So, you’re reading the right story. Just don’t expect it to inspire. I’m not a hero.

Petting the Dog

Poem I write in high school. It’s so weird getting a glimpse into my younger mind.

A hunger deep in the bowels of his stomach burns.

He beggingly for a tiny doggie treat yearns.

Whining and whimpering  he sadly cries.

His owner pats his head and clears the sadness from his eyes.

Cold and wet the dog sits in the pouring rain.

Sad and alone he sits in immense pain.

The master abusing the creature for endless years.

Calms him by softly scratching behind his ears.

Beaten and bloody after another drunken rage.

The dog didn’t want this to be just another page.

With the sent of blood and memories if the past.

He bit his master in his fat lazy ass.

Zombies

Not sure if zombies are still en vouge but I came across a story I started with my dad years ago. I may have to finally finish it. If for no other reason, just for the closure. It’s pretty solid, besides.

From afar everything seemed normal, but as I got closer I could tell something had changed. The normally orderly hospital was chaotic. There were cars everywhere, their drivers having ignored predefined lines and rules. Many of them were either still running or had been left with doors open, windows down. One car had music playing loudly, Highway to Hell, ACDC. I pulled my pistol from my waistband and held it to my side not wanting to be targeted by a trigger happy guard or someone. In spite of all the cars there were far fewer people than I expected. A few were leaving when I got there, hurrying out of the building, into their cars, and off to anywhere else. None were going into the hospital. A warm feeling swept over me. One that said I was right.

         I stopped when I saw a cop laying over the hood of his car. He was slumped over on his belly, gun lying at his feet, lights spinning on his squad car. I approached slowly.

         “Hey, sir!” I shouted to get his attention. Then I asked the same stupid question anyone else might ask even though I knew better. “Are you all right?” Of course he wasn’t all right. Anyone who was all right, wouldn’t be slumped over the hood of their car. Still, when I got a bit closer he moved slightly so I thought maybe I had roused him.

         “Hey man. What’s going on here?” Another stupid question. I was on a roll. Then I did what I knew I should never do. I reached over and placed my hand on his shoulder to see if I could help him up. He spun around with a sudden burst of energy knocking me off balance and causing me to trip and fall backwards.

         He confirmed what I had known to be true since I left the lake. His eyes were dull and discolored. His mouth snarled inhumanly, and he grunted and groaned like a person with a terrible stomach ache. Furthermore he raised his arms in an effort to attack me. If I had not been ready and expecting what I saw I dare say he would have bit me there and I would not have been around to write this account, but as it was I had been prepared for this. I raised my pistol and fired two rounds into his forehead. From that range it was not all that impressive a shot but it was enough. He collapsed onto the ground in a heap. There was blood, but it did not pour from his wounds, just leaked out. Zombie.

         I gathered his pistol, and grabbed the shotgun from his car—assault style, flashlight on it. Nice. I took off the cop’s belt and wrapped it around my waist, holstering the pistol. I put all the rounds I could find in my new belt and smiled. As I was taking those things off a dead cop, that I shot in the forehead, it occurred to me that normally what I was doing would be considered stealing. I didn’t hesitate however, because it was a new day. In the day of the zombie you didn’t worry about taking things that didn’t belong to you. No one trying to survive a zombie apocalypse could fret over such things. In days like that you had to do everything you could in order to survive. Nothing else mattered. Besides with all the  I envisioned myself appearing like many of the heroes in action movies. Looking badass.

         I imagine it seems strange to smile at a time like that, but I couldn’t help myself. I had spent hours considering the very disaster I found myself in and I was prepared. I knew what to do, and when a man knows what he has to do there is no fear in him. It is as Erasmus said, “in the land of the blind, the one eyed man is king.” I was the one-eyed-man. The only one with a plan. I was the king.

         I couldn’t enjoy the moment for long as screams escaped the hospital. I considered leaving, I had no obligation to save anyone from certain death, but I was the one eyed man.

         Shotgun in hand and adrenaline pumping in my veins I moved around the cop car and towards the hospital lobby. I could see bodies on the ground outside. It meant more had gotten out already. There was no telling how many really. Could have been hundreds already.

         The automatic sliding doors opened revealing my dream come true. The lobby was large and open with a large counter in the center and various hallways and elevators leading people to the specific wing they needed. There were people or maybe they were already zombies, stumbling around. I took a deep breath; this was what I had been waiting for.

Plenty of Choices

All books available by Phillip Brunnengraeber

Join the adventure today! 

The Sureshot Series:

The Sureshot Rises

Sureshot the Assassin

Sureshot the King

The Monster in the Woods (A Sureshot Short Story)

Goblin Brothers Series:

Goblins Episode 1: Born in Blood 

Goblins Episode 2: Family

Goblins Episode 3: Blood, Bone , Spirit

Nonfiction: 

This is Crazy: Finding Who you are and What you Want

Summer Vacation!

In years past summer vacation was a time for me to relax. But these days it’s a time for me to get away. Not from work or family mind you. But to a place where I can create. My imagination allowed to wander. My imagination can freely flow. And I can write of swords and bows. Monsters and heroes.

Sure I will play some games no doubt. And for my sports teams I will shout. But the the real joy in summer vacation for me. Is to write something proudly. To craft a story for all to read. In summer a writer I get to be. Will I write a masterpiece? We’ll see.

Pull My Strings

Pull my strings

Make me dance

I’ll shower you with romance

Pull my strings

And make me say

Whatever you want to hear today

Pull my strings

Don’t let me feel

I know my emotions make you ill

Pull my strings

Make me promise

To bury the things I wanted

Pull my strings

Don’t give me space

I just may decide to leave this place

Pull my strings

Tell me how

Exactly how to feel right now

Pull my strings

Don’t let me be

Who I really am inside of me

Pull my strings

Keep saying no

To what I want, where to go

Pull my strings

Out of fear

Fear that I’ll get out of here

Pull my strings

You know best

Don’t let me live or let me rest

Pull my strings

You need control

To feel secure, safe, whole

Pull my strings

I’m your puppet

Not your equal, just your subject

Pull my strings

Put on a show

So none can see, none will know

Pull my strings

But now you’ll find

I’m no longer in your bind