Zombie Hour (sequel to zombie game)

chapter 24

24

Joe was using a brick building for cover when he heard the scream. He knew where the scream was coming from, and knew who had screamed: Linda. He threw another grenade over his head and it exploded. The men had scattered. He saw more zombies as well. This was getting out of hand—he didn't know whether or not they would win.

He blew a zombie backward, jumping forward and shooting another man, a couple of rounds boxing his chest. He saw more zombies—more fucking zombies—and he pulled the trigger again, taking them out. But more still came. It was endless.

He darted from cover and bounded toward the building they were going to stay, trying to find Linda, to see if she was OK. He saw George standing there, blood pouring out of his arm, shooting frantically at the window where he presumed Linda was. He turned around and in one motion shot five zombies and one man, before twisting back around again and sprinting toward the open doorway, where he saw Linda, on the ground, sweating, blood trickling down her bad arm that had been hit with a bullet once again.

“Are you gonna be OK?” asked Joe.

“I honestly don't know I...” He saw George aim the pistol at Linda.

“Get down NOW!!!” screamed Joe. But it was too late. The bullet tore through Linda's back. Blood splashed from the wound and Joe dropped Linda, jumping away, the bullet passing all the way through her body, coming out of her chest in a spectacular explosion of blood and gristle.

“No! No!” screamed Joe. He knelt down by her. He looked out the window.

Saw George smirk.

“Son of a bitch,” muttered Joe. He whipped around and fired his machine gun. A man jumped in the way of George, taking the bullets.

Bullets. Screams. Blood.

Moaning.

The zombies were coming forward again. Tom charged into the ranks, chopping them up, stabbing them, tossing them around, blood splattering his face, his hands, everything about him. He lopped a zombie's head off, and stabbed one through the bottom of the chin, hot blood splashing across his arm. Joe saw a couple of men come upon him, sneaking up on him in his momentary distraction, but Tom saw the men and Joe pivoted around, pulling the trigger, down the men, watching as they flew back, blood splashing out of their chests. Joe whirled around again and turned his attention toward the advancing zombies. He pulled the trigger of his gun and down three zombies. More and more kept coming and it was a hellish scene of blood and death. George aimed his pistol at Joe's head and pulled the trigger. Joe went down. He crawled along the ground as bullets slammed the pavement, leaving small bullet holes littered there. Joe got up and pulled the trigger of his machine gun—

Click, click, click.

Shit. It was empty.

He threw the machine gun to the side. He saw George standing their, a bleeding arm, a smirk on his face.

Suddenly, a whirl of shadows enveloped Joe.

He saw the zombies descending.

Had he been bitten?

No. He fell to the ground, his head groggy, and has he turned his head he saw Tom down as well. Something was happening. They were being dragged somewhere.

But what? Where?