Dead Days

Chapter 16

     The dead began to fill the store, they fell through the windows, the glass stuck in the frames tearing their skin away as the fell into the building. I fired the rifle, each of the 25 bullets buried themselves in the head of an undead. The 25 I killed didn't even put a dent in their numbers.

     There were hundreds of them, more than the 173 people who used to live in this shitty town. Where the fuck did they all come from?

    I released the lock on the magazine and with a twist of my wrist the magazine flew from the gun, I fished a fresh one from my pocket and loaded it and pulled the hammer back.

    I had to get out of this building. Zombies beat at the window at the opposite side of the store, the one looking out to the park. I sprinted to the window, taking small steps, as to not spoil my aim. The three zombies spanning the window dropped before all the shards of glass hit the ground.

     A zombie lunged from behind a shelve and crashed into me. In the weightlessness of our fall to the ground I managed to get an arm under its chin. It's teeth clacked like porcelain inches from my neck.

     I reached a hand behind its head and grabbed a handful of hair. As fast as I could I inched my arm from under its chin to get a hand on its chin. I pushed left with the hand on its chin and pulled right with the hand that held its hair. The things neck snapped like a bundle of twigs.

    With a scream of pure rage I flung the carcass off of me and hopped to my feet. Unsheathing my knife and coming up into a fighters stance, ready to kill whatever came at me.

    The zombies were still a few steps behind, so I ran to the window and dived. Just as I made it over the sill of the window a hand grabbed my ankle, stopping me from rolling out of the dive. Its body was pulled along with my momentum. I slammed into the ground.

     Air rocketed out of my body, but I quickly rolled onto my back and sank my blade into the things head. I fumbled to my feet. The zombies that were outside noticed the commotion and turned their attention to me.

     They mindlessly began to shuffle towards me. I shot a mailman in a tattered uniform, half of his face was missing, a woman dressed in business casual and fat guy in nothing but his underwear.

    The three fell to the ground and a few of the others tripped over their bodies, but it didn't do much to stop the masses. I sprinted around a building and through an alley way that led back on to the street.

The street was somewhat empty, besides a wandering zombie here or there. The alley way behind me was severely congested with zombies. They were actually crushing the ones closest to the wall, there bones cracking was louder than their cacophony of moans.

I sprinted down the street, running back to the woods I came from. The moans of the undead followed me every step of the way.

     Sweat stung my eyes, my ribs ached, and my heart beat my ribs.

     In front of me a window of a store front explodes outwards. A pack of rabids in the glass shards. They skidded on the ground but corrected themselves and ran on all fours straight for me.

    Time slammed to a halt, seconds turned into minutes. The warrior took the wheel. He brought the rifle up and put less spread in his stride and fired three times. Three bullets exploded three faces. Six remained.

    He dropped the rifle, pulled the .45 and unsheathed the knife and let loose a battle cry as he sprinted to meet their charge head on.

    The first of the six jumped, he fired the .45 and the thing flew past me, lifeless.

    Two more jumped, though one was about a foot in front of the other. A smile flicked across my lips.

     He spun to avoid the first, but in the spin he fired, the things head snapped forward as the foot pounds of force slammed into the back of its head. As he came out of the spin he brought he knife the left and the blade sank into the temple of the next rabid.

Four more remained. He shot two, the skidded to a halt, the other two jumped so he dropped to a baseball slide, the things tried to reach for him but they jumped too high.

He slid into a kneeling shooters position and fired four rounds, double tapping each in the back of the head, showing off his skills.

The civil half of me hopped back into the drivers seat, I stood and sprinted to the woods, as I broke the line of trees and bushes, limbs cut my forearms, I didn't care though, the sound of certain death roared right behind me.

I waded through the river that I had drank from earlier as fast as I could, the screechers were catching up. I fired blindly behind me until the gun clicked empty.

I sprinted as soon as I got to shallow enough water, the ending of the woods coming quick. I could see the red of the truck mixed in the shades of green of the leaves.

    "Terry, start the god damned truck!" I yelled. I sprinted harder, my legs beginning to ache.

    I broke through the tree line and stumbled onto the road. I dove into the bed of the truck and nearly busted the window of the truck as I hit it, trying to wake them up.

     But there was no one to wake up, nobody was here. The realization of what was happening hit me like a train, the screechers began to break the tree line.

     Maybe the Russian was right.

    I climbed out of the bed of the truck and got in the drivers seat. Just as I slammed the door shut, the first of the zombies beat on the window, a feral snarl planted on its face as its meal sat behind an inch of glass.

     Maybe this is where I die.