High Wind

Her eyes were nearly shut as the winter sun blazed high in the sky, hitting the earth only bounce off a fresh layer of snow.  The landscape looked so normal for the time of year it was almost easy to forget she was navigating life during the apocalypse.

The undead roamed the earth.  Cities fell first; coastal towns full of people followed by suburbs and hinterland habitats were last.  Her former hometown was claimed by fewer than 500 people and was so remote it took a few days for word of the end of days to even hit.  But it came.  No one was spared.

She watched now a group of zombies slowly make a path through the snow and smiled, for even at the end of the world nature could not be stopped.  The wind of the high plains cared not for the trials of humanity.  Gusts whipped through the valley she had found refuge, hitting 60 miles an hour.

Her eyes followed the group of zombies and watched as they all toppled over themselves when a particularly powerful burst of wind ripped through them.  She would never be able to prove it, but she was pretty sure the zombies groaned with both embarrassment and annoyance as they tried to stand back up.

“Classic,” she said, laughing.  She didn’t have much to laugh about, but at least bowled over zombies could fill her day.

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