An Ode to the Dearly Departed X

“Alright, then so be it, I solved this once. Let’s get in there, and get me a gun so I can get my own back… Hold on. I see something.” He creeps away down along the backs of buildings. On his way, he picks up a shovel, bringing it around up off the ground into a swinging position. He takes his one swing against this darkened figure in the night, walking along a path. Spinal disembowelment from behind with a shovel. With his swing of the shovel, he hits the zombie from behind, cutting through the spine, exploding its intestines onto the ground, eviscerating it. When it drops to the ground, he uses the shovel to remove its head.

Season comes running up behind him.
“What the shit — oh shit it’s old Gus!” But another person has seen this act as well:
“Stop right there.” It’s Maggie, her own gun drawn, and pointing at Kurt.
“Hold on, Mags,” shouts Season. She draws her gun as well.
“He just needs to get back in his cell and wait for morning.”
“He ain’t what you think he is, I know it.”
“Oh, I know what he is–”
“All y’all freeze, now!” The sheriff emerges from the celebration after the fireworks; a third gun drawn.
“Unless y’all folks count this shovel, I’m unarmed here.”
“The man has a point, Maggie, just put the gun down and we’ll get this sorted.”
“Alright, I’m a patient girl, I can wait. He is going back in jail, righ–” A gunshot. Nobody else fires. Season’s gun smokes. A small boy, now headless drops dead behind Kurt. A stunned silence.
“Well?” Season speaks up. Some of the townfolk are drawn to the situation’s gunfire.
“Alright. Dammit. Alright. I was just plannin on doin this myself, but it appears my hand has been forced by circumstance. I dunno where the apprentice is, but if Old Gus and that kid came back from the dead like I just saw they did, we’re gonna have to take some precautions. I already told Eric I need a favor of him, but I don’t think we have time to be searchin for the boy. He went by the graveyard not long ago. The Gunsmith is right in here.” He walks up the stairs to the church, and addresses the small group of people now gathered. Guns have been holstered.
“People, it seems we have here a big problem that I don’t know quite how to describe, delicately or otherwise, but we have a situation that requires a select few of us to bear arms in mass amounts, this here little town is in for something serious. I’m gonna get the preacher and the gunsmith, then we’ll get the mayor to officialize this.” He opens the door, and has his neck bitten open by father Astaire. As it is feasting, the young Miss Vicky bursts from the background of the crowd to the sheriff’s side. Kurt rushes to stop her, but Mr. Broming tumbles from the doorway, grabbing her and biting her flesh as well. Season fires a shot, taking out the Gunsmith.
“I never liked you, you judgmental piece of shit.” Maggie shoots the zombified pastor in the head, realizing what is happening, and finally getting a clear shot now that it was distracted. The bodies fall down the steps. Season nods at Kurt, and shoots the dying Sheriff and Miss Vicky in the head.

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