The zombie apocalypse should have its own soundtrack.
My Official Zombie Apocalypse Playlist (via an iPod on shuffle) at Bizarro Central. The Chipmunks? Yes.
There were no signs, no one who remembered what the street had been. A number, a name, General So-and-So highway. Route 6, A Historic Scenic Parkway. It stretched anonymous and flat into the distance, a crumbling blue arrow pointing to the setting sun. West.
Marv watched his shadow, always afraid it would rise up and take him. I turned him by the shoulders.
W'ere going this way, I told him. He nodded. Shaggy black curls, thick with dust, fell around his face.
They watched from the last house, faces peering from second-story windows. When it got dark enough, they'd come out.
It was almost dark enough.
Marv's shadow trailed us, growing smaller. Asphalt cooled beneath our shoes. I prayed to the unknown road to take us somewhere safe, somewhere there were others like us, someplace with walls. Somewhere my brother's shadow couldn't hurt him.
He took my hand, and I whispered it would be all right. Just keep walking. That's all. Keep walking.