This Would Be Paradise (Book 1)-A Zombie Novel

Chapter 22

"Taylor must have pushed that sniper off the roof," John stated, as he craned his head to look out the wide window. "That's one less gun to worry about."

"How many more are out there?" I asked.

"Dunno, we got their leader and four guards lying in the back room. I only saw those, but judgin' from the noise of the gun shots, there are at least three more out there with weapons."

"So what are we goin' to do? Wait until Taylor does whatever he comes up with?" Ethan blurted out.

I noticed he was not able to sit still, unlike my frozen reaction to everything. Ethan was moving restlessly from foot to foot and running his hand through his hair over and over again. John was wiggling his fingers as his mind moved to come up with a plan. I remained still like a statue.

Ironically, I looked like the calm one, but inside I was beyond panic. My mind had started to block the freaking out part, probably due to some inherent survival instinct. The thoughts in my head finally melded into one. We needed to get out of here, and fast.

"I don't think we will have to wait too long." I pointed to the truck that was now reversing.

Shots were fired towards the receding truck from the others that appeared out front. I watched an infected, which had managed to get in, tackle one guy that was too focused on shooting at the truck to see it in time. They fell to the ground in a tangled mass of limbs. The man screamed in agony as the infected tore at his neck with its bare teeth. Blood squirted from the wound and his screams turned to whimpers and then stopped abruptly. The infected continued to tear into the corpse, chewing and ripping at his flesh.

"Move back! He's going to ram it!" A voice bellowed from the front and the remaining men tried to run to the police station doors.

Seeing they were heading this way, we ran over to the doors to hold them closed. John flipped the deadbolt right as they crashed into the doors, which shook from the impact.

"What the hell?" Someone bellowed from the other side.

"Shoot the lock!"

In less time than it took to breathe, John grabbed my shoulder and dove to the side with me in tow. I hit the ground hard as bullets whizzed past us. The breath was ripped from my lungs, but I managed to crawl over further from the barrage of shots. Ethan was on the other side of the doors clutching his arm, blood was leaking down his shirt.

"You ok?" I yelled once I had air in my lungs again.

"Just grazed me."

"It's not working!" The shooters from the other side yelled, when they tried to kick in the door again.

I imagine the front doors to a police station were purposely made to withstand a certain amount of damage, but it wouldn't hold for much longer.

"The ladder out back!" A muffled voice responded and I could hear the footsteps go around the building.

John braved a look out the window, "Ho-ly shit! He's really goin' to ram it, get down!"

I heard the roar of the engine and then the loud clang of Taylor running into the chain-link fence. Something hit the building with substantial impact and the window shattered. Glass rained down all around us and I covered my head, diving underneath the nearest desk. I had once broken a vanity mirror years ago, but it was nothing compared to the size of this.

Once the shards lay still, I moved out from under the desk. The glass crunched under my shoes as I walked over to John, who was crouched right under the window and was currently shaking the glass off of him. Ethan didn't appear to be touched by the shards as he flipped the deadbolt on the front doors with his left hand, his right arm still out of commission. The gate lay in a crumpled heap just outside the set of doors and the truck was half in and half out of the fence. Taylor was behind the wheel signaling for us to get in.