Guts (the original interactive zombie apocalypse survival story)

44 - Drop into the Room cont.

You're frozen as you stare into the weathered face of Cal. His eyes are brown, but they still manage to resemble ice. Cold and hard.

"Tell you what," he says, thoughtfully. "I like to think of myself as a generous man. And there seems to be a recent opening for the position of bait."

Sally is out of sight, thankfully. The only person who needs out of this mess is you. No way will you be able to beat both of these men, so you do the only thing you can. You start to run. Right away, Troy grabs you, delighted that he's no longer considered 'bait'. He's a hefty guy, and he's twisting your arm behind your back so hard you think it will break.

"P-please..." you say.

He slams you against the van hard enough to make your lungs expel air with a loud oof!  You hear the sound of tape being pulled out, then it wraps around your wrists, binding them together behind your back. With your head turned, your face mashed against the cold metal of the van, you stare up into the vent and vaguely see Sally.

"Help!" you shout in a muffled scream. Not that you want her to give herself up and possibly get in a mess, too. You're just hinting that you've got no way out and as soon as the time is right, you'll need her.

Troy and Cal laugh outright. "Nobody's gonna help you. Everyone's either gone or living dead out there," Troy says gleefully. He jerks you away from the van and you stumble. "What'll we do, boss?"

"Bring- what's your name, kid?" Cal says. You glare at him menacingly. He squeezes your cheeks hard. "I said, what's your name? If we're going to work together, I need to know what to call you."

You spit at him and try to pull away. He smacks you hard across the face.

"Have it your way then. We'll just call you shit-for-brains," Cal says wiping the spit from his face with his shirt. "Troy, hang shit-for-brains from the tree out there. As those rotters come in to feast, we'll pick them off."

"Wait! No! No!" you scream as you realize they've got full intentions of killing you. Troy drags you away while you beg.

The blood-soaked ground grows farther away as Troy strings you up by your neck on a big rope. You're trying not to struggle or kick so it won't put pressure on the rope, but it's hard. You can't stop the sounds that come out as you strangle.

The first undead approaches, snarling and excited.

You want to claw at the rope, but your hands are still tied. Meanwhile, more undead are coming in. They're the least of your worries for now. Strangulation seems more likely your soon to be cause of death. Your eyes are watering and your lungs and neck burn. The growls and gunshots are starting to fade.

A faint sound comes through. "Break!" Cal says. He sounds muffled, but has the pitch of someone yelling at the same time.

You feel the tension in the rope release, and you hit the ground sputtering and gasping.

"Can't let you die, shit-for-brains," Troy says. "These rotters don't like dead bait." He's close by, but you don't know where. Obviously close enough to man the rope.

You hear gunshots much louder now, and other sounds gain strength.

"Again!" Cal yells.

"Nooooooo!" you scream as you're being lifted again.

This time, knowing they're not trying to kill you so soon, you kick and wiggle, hoping they'll let you down. The movement and noise draws in the undead even faster, however. You can actually feel them clawing at your ankles. They've gotten too close. What are they doing? Why aren't they shooting?

"It's okay, We've got you!" Sally says. "I got Louis and Chuck. Chuck has got Cal, Louis is helping me hold you. Just hang in there, Alex!"

The three of them take over and shoot the undead beneath you. To your relief, Sally and Louis lower you. You're laying over some of the crumbled bodies of the undead, but at least you're breathing again. The first bit of air actually burns. While you gather yourself, Louis works on cutting your wrists free. Once loose, you pull the rope over your head and throw it aside.

"Th-thanks, guys. Really, I-ahhhhh!" Your words are cut short.

It seems all of the undead in the pile wasn't completely dead. One has sunk it's jagged teeth into your hand. It reaches up and pulls you down, and takes another bite out of your neck as you scream.

A/N: you guys...it was so hard to kill off the MC this time! I'm sad for you :( After that horrible torture and then the end, ugh! But this path was up. I already planned it out before I started writing it. I'm so sorry.