Death After Death (#2)

Chapter Fourteen

"Keep up, kid!" Max screamed over his shoulder.   

"You know...what...funnily enough, I'm...running...as fast...as I fucking can!" JJ wheezed between panted breaths.

The scampering surge of clickers was gaining by the second; the noise of baby teeth clinking together like maracas, creating a song of death.

"We can't...outrun these things...Max!"

"I know, I know, any bright ideas?"

"Not choosing to...come with you?" JJ joked, allowing himself to let out one stifled laugh before returning to his fit of rasps.

The undead wave eased a few inches closer, its current threatening to drag JJ into a depth of agonising pain. They had to make a move soon, or surrender to their inevitably excruciating fate.

"Get up here next to me and help me find the weakest looking door?" Max yelled, scanning the houses on the right side of the street.

JJ let out a wail of pain and effort before appearing on Max's shoulder, and scouting the left side as instructed.

"What's the plan?" he asked hopefully.

"I'm going to run at a door, really really hard."

"Subtle," JJ panted.

"Sorry, were you expecting some Houdini type shit? I've got...about fifty clickers trying to take a chunk out my arse at the moment, it's...a tad hard to concentrate!"

"Hey...just as long as...you're the one hitting the door...I'm down!"

"Just remember, you're the first thing up on the menu if the fucking thing doesn't smash open!" Max grinned.

JJ creased up at the morbid joke, momentarily forgetting the severe and immediate danger they were in.

"Black wooden door, three houses down on my side!" he exclaimed, snapping back to the present.

"Okay! Pick up the speed, we need as much of a head start as possible, I don't think these fuckers get tired!" Max cried as he kicked his legs up another gear they didn't have.

The lactic acid up and down his thighs was burning white hot, and the muscles in his claves felt like they were ready to snap like a guitar string at any moment. He pushed himself further and faster than he ever felt possible as he hurtled towards the house, barely staying upright as he collided with the door.

The next few seconds seemed to drag by in slow motion, perhaps because Max was very aware that they could be his last.

A series of metallic pops rang through his ears as the old, rusted hinges flew from their perches in the slightly rotten wooden frame. The door splintered on impact, almost imploding in on itself under the weight of the flying fully-grown man.

Max crash landed in a mix of creaking wood and destruction, with fine splinters imbedding into his skin like needles. The door, carrying Max with it, slid a few feet along the hallway, finally coming to rest at the base of a rickety staircase.

There was little energy left in his aching body, with every movement met with screams of reluctant agony from every joint and muscle. Luckily JJ was close behind, and plucked Max up by the arms as he tore into the house.

"Up here!" Max screeched, fighting every urgent impulse in his body to collapse as he clambered up the stairs.

He hoped the steps would slow the clickers down, or at least restrict them to a single-filed assault. The only problem was finding an exit.

The two exhausted bodies bundled through the first door at the summit, rushed by the sounds of clicker feet scraping against the steps below.

JJ slammed the door shut behind them, and as he turned around, Max was already heaving a hefty wardrobe towards the barrier between them and the dead.