Apocalyptic ✔

Twelve

Lead It Away

Deciding that you're not sure enough of your own strength, you opt to lead the zombie away. It seems like the safest choice.

"Mary, I'm going to go outside and lead that zombie away from the house." You tell her the plan. "Lock the door behind me, but wait next to it to let me back in. Ok?" The glazed over look in Mary's eyes worries you, but you don't have much of a choice. You need her to make this plan work. You can't just leave the door unlocked, what if a zombie manages to get inside?

Checking to make sure your shoes are tied, you move toward the back door. You will slip out that way. Mary follows you and you remind her, "Make sure you are here to let me back in."

Drawing in a deep breath to steady your nerves, you open the door and step outside. Mary closes the door and you hear the lock click behind you. The afternoon sun is still bright, but your once peaceful neighborhood feels dark and strange. It's unusually silent, no kids playing in backyards, except for the growls you can hear coming from the front of your house.

Walking carefully around to the front, you see the zombie still swaying in front of your door. It has smeared blood all over the front of the house. The sight is something to behold. You never thought that a zombie would be trying to break into your house, in real life.

"Hey!" You call out to the monster. It's head swings your way and it growls, bloody saliva dripping from its chin. This close, you can smell the faint stink of decay coming off of the corpse. Wrinkling your nose at the smell, you start walking briskly away from your house.

You look over your shoulder. Just like you figured, the zombie is stumbling after you and away from your house. Your adrenaline is running high. Fear is coursing through you, but you still are sure you are ok. There's only one zombie, and it's very slow, so this should be easy.

You walk down the middle of the street. You're pretty sure you saw someone looking out of a window at you a few houses down from yours, but when you looked a second time, they were gone. No matter, you are doing ok on your own.

A few minutes into your walk, moans start to sound ahead of you. A second zombie appears. This one is more decayed than the first, and trailing intestines from a gaping wound in its stomach.

Alert now, because you are between two zombies, you pick up your pace. As you zip around the second zombie, you see maggots crawling in it's festering wounds. And it smells like three day old roadkill left to bake in the sun. Gagging, you start to jog.

Two zombies is one more than you bargained for.

You jog for another hundred yards, and you've opened up a more comfortable lead on the undead behind you. Looking back, you are now far away from your house. It's probably safe to start sneaking your way back now.

Jogging, you take a left turn. There's another zombie shuffling along ahead. As you pass this one, you can make out the jagged bite marks on its arms and face. It moans and starts to follow you. Great. Picking up a new zombie on the way home wasn't in the plan.

You're starting to get a stitch in your side. Exercise never has really been your thing, and you've never jogged this far, before. Looking behind you, you decide that you've put a big enough distance between you and the new zombie. You slow to a walk to catch your breath.

Panting and holding your side, you keep walking... Right into a small group of zombies who are trying to get into a small house.

If course, when they see you, they abandon the house for easier prey. Worry starts to enter your thoughts. You started out with one zombie, but now have a half a dozen on your tail. Still out of breath and fatigued, you force yourself to start jogging again.

You can't go straight home now. You have to lose your new followers first. Cutting through a side yard, you emerge onto the next street over. And run into another two zombies shuffling along together.

"Crap!" You gasp out and struggle to keep going. After a few more minutes, you can't jog any more. Slowing to a fast walk, you look over your shoulder, and do a double take. Somehow, there are nearly a dozen zombies behind you now.

Their groans and growls fill the silence of the neighborhood as they follow you relentlessly.

You are exhausted. You need to get inside. Painfully limping from the leg and side cramps, you hobble toward your house. If you can duck inside without them seeing where you went, they should keep on going past your house.

Are they getting faster? Or are you getting slower? Either way, when you look back again, they are closer than they were a minute ago.

Seeing your house, you make a desperate last push to reach the door. Reaching for the knob, you try it. Locked! That's right, you told Mary to lock it behind you. "Mary!" You hiss.

When you get no answer, you rattle the door. "Mary! Unlock the door!" Still no answer. What is she doing? She was supposed to be ready and waiting to let you back in.

The groaning, drooling mob behind you reaches your back yard. They've seen you!

"Mary!!!" You shout, not trying to keep your voice down any longer. She has to open the door. Now.

But Mary doesn't come. You wait to long, holding out hope that she will still open the door. By the time you try to run, it's too late.

You are trapped in your own backyard. No one comes to your rescue as the dead tear you apart, screaming.