RUN
Brendan and Rory watched frozen as the zombies reached Sam. They watched the smallest zombie, a child, pull back with her pistol and whip it across Sam's head. His friend jerked to the side and toppled over. He fell in what seemed like slow motion.
Other zombies. Brendan could see them. Zombies everywhere. They were right in the open.
"Come on!" Rory hissed, coming to the same realization as Brendan. The two of them ran low to the snowy pavement and hid behind one of the empty dead cars, peering through the window at Sam.
They were cowards. Leaving their friend to die.
Cowards.
The two of them watched in silence as the zombies picked up Sam. Brendan wondered why they wouldn't kill him already and end it.
But that's not what these zombies had in mind. They held onto Sam, and one of the zombies - tall and lean and female with straight shiny hair to her shoulders - led the group over to the hotel that him and Rory hid next to. Brendan shrank back farther behind the car and watched them carry Sam into the building and out of sight.
"What the hell," he muttered under his breath.
"Why didn't they kill him?!" Rory exclaimed. Whatever the zombies had in mind, it must be a lot worse than death.
The two of them sat there for a second in the cold air. Evening had long passed and streetlights washed the area in a soft white glow. A crescent moon shone down dimly and Brendan guessed it was passed midnight.
He thought about James, who he had left back at the car. Brendan wondered if he was still there. Or if he had left, again, on his own. Maybe he was long dead already.
One after another after another, all dropping dead around him, like dominos. Brendan didn't know how much more he could stand.
"Don't you move a damn inch," was what he had told James. And then he had gone out to find Sam and Rory.
Rory coughed roughly beside him and straightened up.
"We have to go save him," He announced to Brendan. "We have to help Sam."
Brendan thought about his friend, with his dead feet, and wondered how Sam was still alive, against all odds.
"I guess we do," Brendan muttered sarcastically. "You have any ideas on how to get around an entire army of zombies and into a building we have no direction in, because I'm stumped."
Rory frowned at his snarky remark. "Well we can't just abandon him. He's your best friend, isn't he?"
An uncomfortable emotion started to rise in Brendan's stomach. If they left now, that's another one dead to add to the ever growing list. Dead because Brendan left him to die.
He would be abandoning Sam without even trying. Like he didn't even care. One of his only remaining friends.
"Fine, fine," Brendan raised his eyebrows. "I'll go along with your suicide attempt."
"Okay, good to hear." Rory crossed his arms and raised his shoulders. The fur lining on his aviator jacket brushed against his cheeks. The temperature was dropping as the night got deeper.
"Wait, so where's James?"
Right. James.
"Oh. I, uh, left him with the car," Brendan said.
"Okay... well... should we go get him?"
"Uh." Brendan looked back up at the sky. Few stars shone through murky clouds. "I dunno. Should we?"
