This morning's prompt is 'honey'.

Hmm, what happens to honey bees in the zpocalypse?

***

The bees were buzzing and Ben noticed the wrecked boxes first; he was point this time while Brenda covered their backs. They switched off, but usually Brenda wanted to lead and Ben was happy with it if she was... Neither trusted Tom with lead because he was a little reckless or tended to hang back with Carol, his Mom when he wasn't trying to win a Darwin.

The wrecked boxes had been, and until very recently, hives. The bees weren't happy, obviously, but the object of their ire was obviously slurping up honey, wax and bees.

"Well now I have seen everything," Ben said to himself. The destroyer of hives heard him and turned towards him, a rather freshly undead American, throat torn and left arm was mangled as well.

"I'm guessing here, but you were the bee keeper and I suspect, since you're alone, you quieted the one that killed you before you went down?" It was less of a question than a statement, as it really didn't matter. Ben lifted his crowbar and swung, and gave grace and tranquility. It was a calling now, as well as necessity.

BP: 121/65/78, sugar: 124