He stared at the feeble light showing over the wall. "Sure would've liked to see the sunset one more time, you know? I'm going to miss its return."

"It'll be beautiful." Rachel forced the words past her clogged throat. "Shades of eggplant, mauve, and pumpkin, streaking across the sky with the sun a glorious yellow orb in the middle of it all. After the darkness, the sky will be such a brilliant indigo as the sun sets, it'll blind you."

He closed his eyes. "I can see it."

She wiped away the tears. Would they ever stop once he was gone? She didn't want to forget him. Life shouldn't be easy for her. This was why she didn't want to be around people. She couldn't afford to get attached. Life was cruel now, bent on a personal vengeance against humankind.

The sound of a diesel engine rose on the night air. Out on the nearby highway, life went on. Rachel would, too. She'd merge back onto the main interstate and take her chances. She'd keep her promise to Eric to keep living.

She watched his chest rise and fall, ready to pull the trigger the moment he remained still. She knew the signs. After all, she'd witnessed them several times in a laboratory.

His breathing slowed, yet didn't stop. Rachel leaned forward, planting a kiss between his eyes, marking the spot she'd put the bullet.

Eric grasped her hand. "Not yet. I'm still...here."

"I won't. I promise." Only a few moments remained. The touch of his hand seemed to sear her skin. How could he be so hot and still coherent?

"When another guy comes along, someone nice to you, give him a chance. You deserve happiness."

"Okay." She didn't want someone else. She wanted Eric. If she'd known that one week could lodge a comedic, confident, arrogant man so firmly into her heart, would she have let him in the truck that day? Yeah. Yeah, she would have.

His body jerked, then spasmed. He groaned, but continued to breath. What was happening? Rachel frowned. Normally, a person just closed their eyes, and left. He jerked again.

"Eric?" She stood and took a step back, aiming the pistol at the spot she'd chosen. "Can you hear me?"

He held out a hand to her.

The End ***

Dear Reader: I hope you enjoyed the prequel to my Zombie Awakening series. Join a young group of survivors as they fight through a hostile world. Learn more of what happened after meteors unleashed a monster.

Book one: The Darkening Book two: No Sanctuary Book three: The Long Road All 3 in one: Zombie Awakening Look for book four late 2013 www.cynthiahickey.com Visit Cynthia on Facebook and Twitter!

Kristen Middleton Hope For A Happy Ending ~A Zombie Games Short~ ***

"Henry, open the door!" yelled Mary, one of the attendants at the Pine Valley Nursing Home.

"Hold on to your britches!" he answered and then lowered his voice. "Ginny, Barbara Jean, I'm sorry but we're going to have to finish this game later. I think we've been ousted."

Ginny threw her cards down on the table. "Oh, phewy. I think I may have gotten a royal flush this time, too. All I needed were two more cards."

Barbara Jean snorted. "You've been saying that all day. The only thing you've gotten is down to your brassiere and panties."

"Ain't nothing wrong with that," cackled Henry, as he pushed himself away from the table. "You're still in mighty fine shape for a woman in her sixties."

Ginny waved her hand, blushing. "Henry, you know I'm eighty-four, you sweet talkin' devil, you."

"Yeah, but you've got the figure of a fifty-year old, and these days, fifty is the new forty," he said, picking her robe off of the floor. As he stood back up, he winced. "Oh, I only wish I could say the same thing about me. This back of mine is giving me a lot of trouble, lately. I may have to ask one of you to give me a massage once I get rid of Mary."

"Certainly," said Ginny, smiling up at Henry, who was still a very handsome man at eighty-nine. He kind of reminded her of Clint Eastwood, always wearing a Stetson and a pair of cowboy boots. Of course, with his tall, lanky body, and full set of teeth, he was definitely the best catch at the nursing home.

Barbara Jean smirked. "I've heard about you and those massages, Henry. Nancy James told me all about that 'happy ending' you were trying to talk her into the last time your back 'went out'."

His watery blue eyes sparkled mischievously. "I don't rightly recall the ending being happy or what that particularly means, Barbara Jean. Maybe you could explain it later when the two of you return to my room and work out some kinks."

Barbara Jean rolled her eyes. "Oh, you're kinky alright-."

"Henry!" hollered Mary, pounding on the door, much more loudly this time. "Open the damn door. This is serious!"

He sighed. "Oh, hell. Well, I can't believe I'm saying this, but Ginny, you'd better put some clothes on before Mary somehow pushes that chest away from the door and starts going ninja on us. When she gets riled up, she's a handful, by golly."

Barbara Jean, who hadn't yet lost a hand of poker or an article of clothing, stood up and reached for her cane. "Well, I guess this party is definitely over. Perfect timing, I suppose," she said looking at her watch. "I think they're running some old reruns of Matlock on cable, later."

"Oh, I'll bring the popcorn to your room and we'll watch it together," grinned Ginny, zipping up her housecoat.

"You're on."

"You girls want to help me move that chest out of the way, first?" he asked, walking over to the door. "Before you trade me in for Andy Griffith?"

"Oh, Henry. Andy could never replace you," said Ginny, eyeing him appraisingly. The man still looked good in Levis. She only wished she would have known him back in the day, when he was still in the rodeo, riding those bulls.

"Speak for yourself," said Barbara Jean. "Back in the day, nothing beat a bottle of Chardonnay, a Matlock marathon, and my B.O.B." She sighed. "Boy do I miss those days."

"What's that, you say?" asked Henry. "B.O.B?"

Ginny giggled. "She means her battery operated boyfriend."

His eyebrows shot up.

"Henry! Please," yelled Mary, her voice frantic.

"Hold tight," said Henry as he and Ginny began pushing the chest away from the doorway. Unfortunately, the staff had removed the lock on his door after he'd gotten his hand slapped for a few minor escapades, like the naked pillow party he'd inspired the week before after his grandson's visit. Tiny had slipped him a bottle of his favorite bourbon. After sharing it with a couple of his friends, both female, they'd all gotten giggly and a little frisky, tossing more than just pillows. Now, the staff made it a habit to check up on him throughout the day. It didn't stop Henry from doing what he wanted, however. Nothing was going to keep him from enjoying his last days above ground.

Mary burst through the door with a frightened look on her face. She slammed it shut and then motioned towards the oak chest. "Henry, hurry up," she said. "We've got to block this door."

Henry smiled. "Oh, why didn't you just say you wanted to join in the fun? Hell, Ginny, take off your robe again. We've got us some more hands to play."

Mary, who was the spitting image of Paula Deen, before she stopped eating fried foods, shook her head vehemently. "This isn't a time for jokes, Henry. Something is happening. Something horrible!"

"Calm down," he said, raising his hands in the air. "Or you're going to hyperventilate, Mary."

A loud thud on the outside of the door made her cry out. "Oh my God!" she shrieked. "They've gotten to this floor, already! Help me hold them off!"

"What in tarnation is going on? Who has gotten in?" he asked as she put her weight against the door.

"Dead people!" she cried.

"It's a nursing home," said Henry. "Obviously, some of us are close to death, but that's what old age does, Mary. It drains us of our youth and leaves us shells of what we used to be. It's part of life. Now, you of all people should know that. You've been working here long enough."

"No! I mean zombies. Dead people that shouldn't be walking!"

Ginny's face turned white. "What?" she asked, covering her mouth. "What are you talking about?"

Another loud thud made them all jump.

"Help me!" pleaded Mary, as the door handle began to jiggle.

Henry rushed over to help as the door shuddered against Mary's weight. Leaning against it they stared at each other in stunned silence until a low, guttural moan broke it.

"Did...did you hear that?" whispered Barbara Jean.

"What?" asked Ginny.

"Turn your hearing-aid up," hollered Henry.

Something began snarling loudly outside of the door.

"Good going," said Mary. "They can hear you. They can probably smell you, too."

Barbara Jean smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. I think I may have peed a little. That last growl caught me off guard. Scared the hell out of me."

"It's okay, Barbara Jean," said Henry. "It happens to the best of us."

"What are we going to do?" asked Ginny, ringing her hands.

"I know one thing- we can't let them trap us in this little room. Whoever these people are, they'll get through, eventually. We've got to make a run for it."

"Are there a lot of them?" asked Barbara Jean.

"Yes," said Mary.

"How did this happen?" asked Henry. "Do you know where they came from?"

Mary shook her head. "No. Some soldiers came to the nursing home earlier and said to keep everyone inside. Said there were some riots going on downtown. That's the last I heard until a group of crazed, dead people wandered into the entrance and began attacking everyone in sight. Biting, scratching...God, it was horrible."

"You're sure they're dead people?" asked Barbara Jean.

"Sure as we're still alive."

"Well, what's happened to the others? Maggie, Jeff, Betty? All of the other residents?" asked Henry.

"Most of them have been sick with the flu," she said, blinking back tears. "Oh, Henry...I'm not exactly sure what's happening. I just ran to your room. To make sure you were okay."

"Thanks Mary," said Henry, squeezing her shoulder. "You're a mighty good woman."

The zombie, or whatever it was on the other side of the door, made a crazed screeching noise and began scratching and clawing at the door. This was followed by a growling from a new creature who was apparently now joining in the fun.

"Give me your cane, Barbara Jean," said Henry.

"Why?"

"Because, as soon as we open this door, I'm going to kill me some zombies," he said grimly. "Just be prepared."

She snorted. "Right. You're going to kill someone."

"I'm serious. We've got to get out of here and it's the only way. Now, give me your cane."

Barbara Jean sighed and handed it to him. "Fine. Just don't break it. It's my favorite."

"If I break it, I'll buy you a new one."

"You break it, you get me your grandson's autograph," she smiled. "Love me a picture of Tiny in his speedos."

"The wrestler?" asked Ginny.

"The one and only," she replied.

"I think the zombies are gone," whispered Mary, listening against the door. "I don't hear anything."

"Only one way to find out," replied Henry. "Open the door."

Mary's eyes widened. "I don't think it's a good idea."

"We have to make our escape. There's no other way."

She bit her lower lip. "Okay. I'll go first."

Henry stared at her in surprise. "You?"

"Obviously, I'm the youngest and the most agile."

His lips tightened. "I may look older than dirt, but there is no way in hell I'm letting you go first. Just cause I'm living in this place doesn't mean I'm no longer capable of being man. Now, you open that door so that I can get you ladies to safety."

After a long pause, she relented. "Fine."

Henry opened the door.

"Oh my God," gasped Ginny as they stared in terror at the horrifying scene in front of them. Two mottled, disfigured men were lying on top of another resident, chewing on pieces of what was surely, the man's intestines.

"Is that Ben Smith?" asked Barbara Jean, her voice strangled.

"Looks like it might have been," mumbled Henry.

The two zombies ignored them and continued to tear into their victim, who stared up at the ceiling, mercifully, with lifeless eyes.

"Let's go," said Henry, holding the cane in front of them as they moved away from the gruesome scene.

"Someone's coming," whispered Ginny as she pointed down the hallway to something moving in the shadows.