Z-Nation Imagines

Mercy

It was sometime in the middle of summer when I found myself with the rest of Operation Bitemark at the front of a random shopping mall in Colorado. We had run out of a lot of our supplies and had caught wind of a large sum of supplies still in the abandoned building. There were still a fair amount of Zs inside, or so we heard, so nobody around wanted to brave going inside.

Naturally, there was some opposition amongst our small group about heading in to scavenge. Murphy mumbled about being able to keep some Zs away from us and Warren and 10k were confident we could take all the zombies, but Addy and I were speculative about how much Murphy really cared about our lives. We were also unsure about how many Zs there were and, like so many others, didn't want to risk going inside for a questionable amount of supplies.

We ultimately all decided to go in anyway. With any luck, we would outnumber and outman the Zs and not come away empty-handed.

"If I die, I'm gonna be really mad," I grumbled, reluctantly following 10k's lanky form and gripping my machete a little tighter.

"Hey," Addy murmured, wrapping her arm around my slumped shoulders, "it'll be alright, Lee". She tilted the corners of her lips up in a comforting smile and released me.

I sighed and nodded, resigning myself to yet another stress-filled side mission that will most probably end poorly, but still in the group's favor. Still, dread churned in my stomach, attempting to build into full-blown panic.

We all entered through a side door with a broken handle, the groaning of the metal deafening in the silence of the hot afternoon. After creeping inside, we fanned out and took out the few stray zombies there.

"Ugh, dead body smell. Gross", I pulled up the collar of my shirt to cover my mouth and nose, trying not to retch.

"That was almost too easy..." Addy murmured, eyes shifting uneasily around the area.

All of our attention flew to Murphy as he stumbled over a rotting corpse, then kicked a stray bottle across the crusty linoleum floor. Heads snapped over to glare at him and he cringed, throwing us an apologetic grimace. I was in the process of rolling my eyes when we heard them.

From around the corner came a group of about 30 Zs, snarling and dripping blood and rot and death.

"Fuck", someone breathed, and all at once the zombies spotted us, the promise of fresh meat animating them further. In small groups, they broke into a run.

Murphy couldn't control this many Zs. We broke into a sprint toward the exit, the zombies snapping at our heels, and busted through the door one by one. As I was working my way through the door, a toe caught the metal frame at the bottom and I went down, down concrete stairs and onto the gravel-filled grass below, hitting the ground with an "oomph".

10k and Doc turned around and started back toward me, grabbing my arms and hoisting me up. I attempted to put weight on my left foot and found quickly that my calf shrieked in agony at the motion and had bulged up toward the crease of my knee. My arms were around their shoulders and the men were nearly dragging me away from the horde but it was no use. We weren't moving quickly enough to escape.

"Guys," I groaned, "Just go without me. I'm done. It's okay."

"No! We aren't leaving you behind, Lee." Doc's voiced was strained with the effort of carrying half my weight.

"Doc, please, just let me go. My calf muscle is fucked, I think it's torn. We aren't moving fast enough to get away. I'm just holding you back. Please". I pulled my arms off their shoulders, out of their grasps, and slid my machete and pistol out of their holsters at my hips. "I'll hold them off. Just let me do this for you guys. I'm not important and you need to get Murphy to California. Besides," I smirked "Maybe I'll catch up after I take care of these zombie shits".

I looked 10k in the eyes, pleading with him to let me go, to move on without me, and he confirmed with a small dip of his head. Doc protested as I turned away from them and there was a scuffling of shoes as 10k pulled him along, away to the promise of safety. Swallowing down tears, I readied my weapons and began killing the first of the Zs that reached me.

I got about five down when I got overtaken, my pistol out of bullets and the zombies grabbing my arms and jacket. Rotting, bloody teeth broke through the skin of my neck and shoulders, searing pain shooting through my veins, and I looked up and over to where 10k was looking over his shoulder at me. We met eyes again and he raised his gun. I barely made out the word on his lips through the burning of infection running through my fading body.

Mercy.

Then, darkness.