He Fed Me To Zombies Nineteen Times

The flare washed the world in white. Through the blinding snow, I couldn't see a damn thing.

Ethan's angry voice boomed from a loudspeaker:

"I don't care who you are! Get lost! This is private property!"

I saw a figure on the cabin's balcony.

Ethan, holding an assault rifle. A few guards stood behind him.

"This is your last warning! Back off or I'll open fire!"

I raised my hands. "Ethan! It's me! Scarlett!"

"I know it's you!" he roared. "You brought guns to storm my cabin? Are you insane?"

A bullet kicked up snow at our feet.

Snow and rock chips flew.

Martha shoved her wheelchair forward. "Stop! I'm your mother!"

Another shot.

Closer this time.

"Ethan! Look! It's Judge Martha! It's your mother!"

The shooting stopped.

I heard Ethan's confused voice over the speaker.

"What…?"

"Mom?" His voice trembled. "Is that really you?"

Martha struggled to her feet, lifting her hands high.

"Son! It's me! Martha! Your mother!"

Ethan's finger hesitated on the trigger.

Just then, Chloe’s shrill voice came from inside the cabin.

"Baby! Don't fall for it!"

She ran to Ethan's side, grabbing his arm.

"Your mom's in a wheelchair! How could she have climbed halfway up the mountain?"

Ethan froze.

"Look at the thermal signature! It's all wrong, too stiff!" Chloe went on. "That's not a person, Ethan. It's one of them, trying to trick you!"

"No… impossible…"

"Or it's a stunt double Scarlett hired!" Chloe’s voice grew sharper. "She'd stoop to anything to ruin our night, even use this disgusting trick to insult your dead mother!"

"What?"

"She's mocking your mother's memory! Using a body double to get to you!"

Ethan's face twisted into a mask of pure rage.

"Scarlett! You venomous bitch!"

He dropped the rifle and grabbed a grenade launcher.

"You dare use my mother against me!"

"Ethan! No!" I screamed.

But he had already shouldered the weapon and taken aim.

"You'll use any dirty trick to humiliate me!"

Martha saw the targeting laser from the launcher.

The red dot was on my chest.

She didn't hesitate.

In that last second, Martha launched herself out of her wheelchair. A shield of fragile bone and fierce love.

"NO!"

The grenade fired.

A fireball ripped through the night.

Martha's body exploded in front of me.

Flesh and blood rained down.

Shards of bone sliced across my cheek.

The shockwave threw me backward.

My ears rang with a high-pitched scream.

I opened my eyes. The thing in my arms wasn't a person anymore. Just a warm, wet mess of what used to be Martha.

Her face was gone.

Only one of her hands remained, still tightly gripping the old hunting rifle.

"No… no… Martha…"

My scream tore through the night.

Over the loudspeaker, Chloe’s voice was bright, triumphant.

"Wow, baby. Nice shot." She paused. "See? All quiet. Now, you should probably have someone get rid of the... mess... before the smell brings the real ones. We wouldn't want that."