This story is more or less a sequel to my oddly popular one-shot Chuck vs. the Zombie Apocalypse. Some readers asked me to write a follow up to the story, but I never really thought much of the idea until this Hallowhedon challenge came to be. Basically, this story that has yet to receive a title (if anybody has any idea, feel free to share!) and takes place after the zombie apocalypse. Essentially. Exciting, right?
It was originally just going to be a long one-shot written in Chuck's POV, much like the first story was. But I realized as I was writing that that just wasn't working for me, so I changed the idea. It's now a multi-chapter story, with each chapter probably coming from a different POV. Why should Chuck get to have all the fun? Plus, this means I can write a chapter about Jeff saving the day. Oh, is that spoiling? Whoops.
Anyway, without further ado, here is an excerpt from Chapter One:
Eventually, Jones conceded to his words with a nod of his head. “You’re probably right. Where do you think?”And there you have it. I hope you enjoy and look for this chapter to debut on Halloween.
Morgan peered carefully at the snow-covered plain and tapped his gloved fingers against his thigh. “If I were them and a wampa was chasing after me, I’d head west, toward the mountains, and hope I could lose them there.”
Jones groaned and said, “Dude, I thought we had a rule about no more Hoth references.”
“I don’t remember that,” Morgan said as innocently as possible.
He chuckled when he saw Jones’s eyes roll. “We had a group meeting, remember? There was even a memo. Agent Walker threatened you with dismemberment if you continued to encourage Chuck.”
Morgan shivered then and it had nothing to do with the cold. He wasn’t sure what it said that instead of a wampa ambushing him on the frozen tundra, he pictured Sarah popping out of nowhere and ripping his arms out of their sockets. “Good thing she’s not here, isn’t it?”
Jones’s eyes shut briefly and he scowled. “Unlike you, I don’t have a get out of jail free card when it comes to Darth Walker, and I’d rather not incur her wrath, thank you. Why tempt Fate?”
“Because it’s fun?”
“I hate you.”
“Relax. She’s mostly all talk.” Morgan adjusted his shotgun and held it a little closer to his body. “I think.”
He took a deep breath, wincing as the cold hair bit into his throat and lungs. They had stood around long enough. They needed to get going if they hoped to search for Roy and Argento and still make it back to the convoy before dark. The last thing anybody wanted was to be out in the open at night.
You never knew when a zombie squirrel would sneak up on you and take a chunk of your flesh to store away for winter.