"Well, doggies...." Jed lowered the rifle with a heavy heart, the roar of 30-30 still ringing in his ears. Jethro's corpse twitched briefly before lying still. His attacker hadn't even noticed. Jed didn't relish telling his cousin that he'd been forced to blow his nephew's brains all over the estate's sprawling grounds, but there had been no choice. Once Jethro had been bitten, it was only a matter of time before he became one of those shambling things throwing themselves against the iron fence and main gates. He'd seen it too many times in the last few weeks, as this so-called zombie plague had spread like wildfire across the country, finally landing in the posh sprawl of Beverly Hills. The people native to this area were doomed, he mused. They were too soft, too pampered. They didn't know how to survive when their comfortable world came crashing down around them.
"Jed! Pay attention to yer chores, boy! The job ain't over yet!" Granny pointed out towards the lawn frantically. Miss Hathaway remained oblivious, contentedly munching away on a piece of Jethro's throat. Her skin had turned a mottled gray, her eyes milky and opaque. There was a strange irony to this, the formerly poor mountaineer turned oil millionaire thought as he raised the shotgun to finish her off. Miss Hathaway had always had her eyes on Jethro. Seems like in the end she finally got her man. He uttered a quick prayer before pulling the trigger. "You rest easy now, girl."
Jed paused to reload when he heard another shot ring out from the upper story window Granny had chosen as her sniping position. Another zombie, this one a young woman wearing torn and shredded Christian Dior originals and high heel pumps fell to the ground, this time for good. Already, Granny had sent upwards of twenty of these poor souls to their final reward. The bodies at the main gate were starting to pile up. This was no good, Jed Clampett thought. That wrought iron fence ringing the estate was holding up pretty good so far, but it was only a matter of time before it fell before the sheer weight of the ever-growing hordes outside. The sky was thick with screams and smoke as yet another exclusive mansion went up in flames and another victim fell to the feeding frenzy going on outside. They had to get out of here. The only place he felt they could make a stand at was back home in Kentucky. The Clampett clan knew those woods and hills like the backs of their hands. They could survive there for an eternity. But Kentucky was half a continent away now and the country was crawling with those things.
