When All is Lost

Chapter 62

We had made too much noise.

My final shot may have been one too many. I turned to follow Neveah and the rest of the group but what looked like a new wave of zombies was rapidly approaching. Before, they must have all been scattered, meandering aimlessly until we gave them a central focus.

They were in various states of decay, hinting at the terrible fact that more and more were succumbing to the zombies every day.

And I was about to become one of them.

Carlos was the first to stop in his tracks. He'd been ushering Ian forward until he'd stopped to help Patrick. Ian had managed to keep up with the group, but Carlos and Patrick were stuck with me and we were surrounded.

There was no opening.

I wordlessly passed Carlos back his rifle. There was no time to think or plan – zombies didn't wait. I barely had the time to suck a breath in before a zombie lunged for my shoulder. I barely managed to dodge it before Patrick let out a scream.

My head snapped to him as he toppled to the ground with a zombie clambering over him. The thing skittered up his legs, trying to get a bite in wherever it could, but Patrick was gripping its hair with everything he had.

I kicked the zombie in its side as hard as I could, shoving it off Patrick. I made a move to help him stand when something caught hold of my back. It was tugging on my borrowed coat and succeeding at pulling me closer with every yank.

Patrick's panicked eyes met mine and I knew I was in trouble. I tried to turn and shake the thing off, but I felt its boney fingers dig deeper into the fabric at my back, working to reach skin.

The sound of a whack made me jump and, from the corner of my eye, I could see that Carlos was using the butt of his rifle to hit the zombie that held me captive. Two more hits and the zombie went down.

Only, it took me down with it.

The burst of pain in my side had me seeing stars, but I had to push through it. A booted foot nearly hit my nose as another zombie made a dive for Carlos.

Pulling at my coat, I freed myself from the motionless zombie at my back and began to crawl away, keeping an almost painfully tight grip on my hatchet out of fear of losing it.

"Help!" Patrick screamed. He had just gotten back to his feet when two zombies threw themselves at him. They collided with one another, but that only gave Patrick a single moment to see his fate before he met it.

My heart slammed painfully in my chest as I watched the larger of the zombies – the one with the missing ear – make its move. Shoving past its competition, it moved towards Patrick, teeth first. Its jaw was practically unhinged as it charged forwards with its mouth open as wide as it could go.

Patrick could do nothing but hold up his arms and close his eyes.

I couldn't help it. I flinched, squeezing my eyes shut and only opening them again when I heard a tear.

My view was partially obscured by the second zombie trying to get around the first, but I saw when teeth tore into fabric, digging deep and clenching. The monster's jaw almost seemed to lock, refusing to disengage until it knew it would be pulling away with flesh and blood.

The sleeve was easily torn as the zombie pulled back, leaving a hole in the fabric. I could see blood pooling up where the zombie's canines had penetrated the skin. My stomach bottomed out but before I could get to my knees, the zombie went in again and got a mouthful of exposed arm.

I tore my eyes away, getting myself onto my wobbly feet as fast as I could. When I looked back up, expecting to see Patrick getting torn apart, I was met with a completely different sight.