Run. (Team Crafted Fanfiction)

Chapter 19- Screaming?

Mitch's POV

I hunker down behind some of the boxes and press my hands over my ears. Olivia is somewhere behind me, probably doing the same. I screw my eyes up and concentrate on my breathing, which is hard as I have to breathe the stale air through my t-shirt.

The zombies realized where we were about an hour ago. Ever since then, they've been practically screaming and banging on the truck. I've added another fact to my mental zombie journal. When zombies attack, they scream. Very loudly. They've probably alerted every zombie in the surrounding twenty miles. They're that loud. Who knew?

I tilt forward until I'm balancing on my heels, and lean my head against the floor. I sit stiffly, dragging in ragged breaths through my jacket. In and out. In an out. I need fresh air. My head spins and I resist the urge to scream.

A hand on my shoulder, and my head shoots up so fast that my neck cracks. I roll over on to my back, massaging it as every other bone in my body protests.

"I think they're gone. I haven't heard them in about an hour."

An hour? That doesn't seem right. Olivia's pale face floats above me, wide-eyed. I groan and put my hands over my eyes.

Not removing them, I ask "Really? I thought they were still screaming."

She shakes her head and holds out a hand. "No. I think you might have lost consciousness. You went so still. It was scary."

I nod, taking her hand. I clamber up. "I was pretty scared, too. Thought the zombies were gonna break in here."

She nods and walks over to the door of the truck. I crack it open, and she peers outside. "Well?"

Head still outside, she responds. "They're not all around the truck, but......" she trails off.

"What?" No response. I open the door a little more and look out.

My breath immediately escapes from my body in a short gasp. The number of zombies has easily tripled over the night. Guess I was right about the whole "alerting each other" thing. I suck in the morning air and huff it out, watching it float away into the cold air.

Olivia draws her head back into the truck. "What do we do?"

I pull my head back in and inch the door closed. "I suppose we try the blending in thing again."

Biting her lip, she nods. "All right."

I open the door and she steps outside, running over and crouching behind one of the cars again. I slide out of the truck and go join her.

"Do you think we can stealth past them again? There's so many more now. If we mess up, we're dead." The words shoot out of her like a rocket.

I glance over the top of the car. She's right. If we mess up, we'll immediately be killed. There is almost nowhere you can go without being in a large herd. I lean down, so my head is right next to hers.

"You go along the side. Stay next to the barrier. If something goes wrong, you sprint to the cars. Climb up on them or get in to them. If you get in, hide. If you climb on, kick the ones following you to get more of a lead. Then keep running. Try to get to the next intersection and wait for me."

Her wide eyes dart around. "What about you?"

I pull out my knife and unwrap the guaze on my arm. "I'm your backup plan."

"Mitch, no!"

I shoot her a look. "You get to the intersection. If I'm not there when the suns starts to go down, keep running. Get to Seattle and try to find the team."

She protests. "Bu-" I glare at her once more and stand up. She heads off towards the barrier and I head the other way. Keeping even with her, I slide between the cars, avoiding zombies. I take my eyes off her crouched form for a second to observe my path, when I hear her scream. "Mitch!"

I jump up and sprint to her as fast as I can. Three zombies surround her, getting ever closer. I watch as she knocks one down an kicks it's head off. I tackle the other one from behind and sink my knife into its back, over and over. It slumps in my arms and I drop it. The other zombie snaps it's mouth closed an inch from my throat. It pushes me backwards against the hood of a car, and we grapple.

"Olivia, go! Run to the intersection!"

Our plan is shattered. She takes off along the barrier. I scream as my knife sinks into one of the zombies eyes, and kick it away. Most of the zombies are heading towards me, but a good few head toward Olivia. I take out my knife and drag it down my arm, screaming as loud as I can. I then take my now bloody arm and hold it up, shaking it everywhere. Blood splatters the road and cars. Still holding my arm up, I run towards the zombies. I tackle one and bury my knife in its skull.

Another one grabs my arm and I scream again. My knife enters it's eye and blood splatters my face. I risk a look at Olivia. She has only two zombies on her now. She clambers onto a car, and I watch as she uses the height to kick off their heads. Then she jumps off and keeps running. Good.

I return to my situation, which is not as good. An army of zombies advance on me. For the first time, I scream out of true terror, not as a distraction. The first couple of zombies reach me, and one of them pins me to the side of a truck. I shove my arm against its throat. Holding it at an arm length, I maneuver the door open behind me. With one last burst of energy I kick it away and crawl into the truck, slamming the door behind me.

I close my eyes for a moment and press my face against the seat. When I look up, I am greeted by a bloody drivers seat. Driver must have left. I pull myself into a sitting position and notice a sunroof above me. I wind it back and climb onto the top of the truck.

The sight that I see nearly makes me faint. Zombies, armies, hordes, groups, cities, surround me. A few pound on the truck, but it is too tall for them to climb. They all start screaming, and it raises to a single, blood curling screech. Crouching, I put my hands over my ears and groan. It's a scream of utter and desolate pain, a sound I didn't even know  could be made. I scream and scream until my voice gives out, and then I lay there and sob. I want to throw up. I'm going to die. I will turn into one of them. Fury stains my sight. No. I will not be one of them.

Hands shaking slightly, I raise my knife and rest it's tip directly above my heart. I position my self with my back to them. When I fall, I will fall right into them. They will eat my body, but I will not turn. I will already be dead.

The knife digs in, and blood drips out of the wound. I wince slightly as a molten spreads from the tip, and push it on farther. My whole chest screams with pain now. But then my arm drops, wrenching the knife free. I collapse to the truck shaking. The world tilts and turns green at the edges. I lean over and vomit.

The knife. I had killed zombies with it and then dragged it across my arm. I had then dug it into my chest. And the spores. There were tons of zombies. I had inhaled so many spores. I lean over the truck and vomit again, splattering the zombies. I was turning. I try to scream, but my voice is gone. All that comes is a deep guttural sound, the howl of a dying animal. I thrash around, trying to rid myself of the pain.

Then, without warning, the truck lurches forward under me. I scrabble for a handhold, and manage to cling to the sunroof for a moment before all my strength leaves. I slide off the roof and crumple into the bed of the truck. The world spins dizzyingly in front of me, but I can still make out the thunks of zombies hitting the hood. Their undead faces flash by, until there aren't anymore.

The truck slows to a stop. A door opens and closes, and someone climbs into the truck bed. I lay there unresistingly as they pull my head into their lap and start to clean my wounds.