𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐔𝐌 (𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑦𝑙 𝐷𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑛)

𝐹𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑦 𝑇𝑤𝑜

A choir of low, rasping moans broke the silence around me. My feet felt tied to the damp ground below. Without the sound of my shoes trampling through dried leaves and brush, I was able to hear clearly.

The familiar song of the dead came from nearby, just over a small hill. I glued my back to the nearest tree and carefully poked my head out. Even in the dark, I could make out dozens of sluggish figures quickly advancing in my direction. There were more than I'd ever seen before, larger than the group that passed through the highway some time ago.

My heart quickened and a sweat broke out on my skin. The horde of walkers was growing closer. Any longer and I'd be able to smell them. I heard distant gunshots from the way I came.

Suddenly, a high-pitched snarl broke my focus. I whirled around and came face-to-face with stick-thin arms reaching greedily for my hair. My foot came up and swiftly kicked the dead woman in the chest, sending her toppling backwards. I took off, leaving the walker whining on the ground, and headed back to the farmhouse.

The herd came from every angle. No matter how fast I ran from one cluster, another appeared almost instantly. I avoided the walkers, speeding past them before they could get close enough to grab me. Despite the glow of the full moon, I could barely see. Engaging walkers was not an option. I couldn't risk missing the head and getting my knife lodged in something else.

When I finally reached the house, it looked like the ninth circle of hell broke loose. The old barn was consumed by a raging flame, drawing any nearby walkers right into its trap. Bursts of muzzle flashes lit up near the house as more bullets flew into the horde. Under the light of the fire, I made out several figures holding rifles. My eyes desperately searched for a way over to them.

I clenched my teeth together as a sharp pain erupted in my side. I was cramping and out of breath. I had no idea what to do. The crowd in front of the house was too thick for me to run through. Walkers began surrounding me, each and every one of them ready to sink their teeth into my body as soon as they got the chance. Their cold eyes reflected the light of the fire, giving them an eerie, deceptive sense of life.

I found an opening in a nearby crowd and took my chance. A heavy-built corpse suddenly turned to me and lunged forward. I dodged its flailing arms and ran through the clear space. Dead hands brushed against the denim on my back as I sprinted past them. There was a clearing void of any walkers up ahead. A dirt path led up to a smaller building with metal pens all around it.

I gasped as a sudden pull yanked my head back. A rotting hand buried itself in my loose hair, bringing me to it. Nausea washed over my stomach as the sound of snapping teeth grew closer and louder. I panicked, blindly striking behind me with my knife. I pulled against the walker's grip, but it was firmly latched onto my head. Its other arm grabbed at my wrist as I kept stabbing at the air above with my blade, praying it would find the skull.

Fuck.

One by one, nearby walkers began turning to me with open jaws.

I don't wanna die.

I felt my blade hit something hard, half way inside bone. Just a little further. With a loud grunt and all of my strength, I pushed it further inside, not stopping until I felt the hilt meet dead skin. Fingers loosened and fell from my scalp. The walker slumped over and I finally broke away.

My weapon free, I let my feet carry me to the stables, adrenaline coursing through me from this close call.

I closed the stable doors behind me and heard startled whinnies and cries erupt. This newfound safety wouldn't last for long. At least a couple dozen walkers saw me run in. Unless distracted, they would come looking for their dinner soon.