It was Zeke who found the solution. Everybody else was too busy running to think of how to fight the things.
"Zeke! Gitcha ass outchere 'n git 'n th' celler!" yelled Granmaw. She grabbed the kid's hand and started down the steps. The kid looked back and saw Zeke come out with a big pan and set it in the yard.
The zombies came shambling up, took a sniff, and fell to eating. They all dropped dead, with satisfied smiles.
"Yep," said Zeke. "Et theyselves ta death, they did."
Everybody always did say Zeke's barbequed ribs were to die for.
YOU ARE READING
Drabbling...
FantasyDrabbles are stories consisting of exactly one hundred words. They can be in any genre but the ones I write are mostly fantasy, or paranormal, though I sometimes write ones that are mainstream or can't be categorized. Only the first four here, The...
