Head Full of Ghosts

Chapter 1 - Don't You Try to Run Away

They were closing in on him. He could feel it.

Joe was not the kind of man who ran a lot. Not to say he wasn't fit. He was a thick, sturdy man, and though his body was shaped from a lifetime of work out in the fields of his family's farm, running had never been his thing. But here, and now, with these unliving monsters that walked the earth, running was the one difference between surviving and joining their ranks.

And running was just not his thing.

He paused, leaning hard against a tree as his breath came in heavy pants and his vision blurred and clouded. He could hear them crashing callously through the underbrush behind him, no care in the world beyond finding him. Killing him.

Eating him.

Briefly he tried to remember why he thought entering the woods was a good idea. Did he think he could lose the zombies if he just got out of their sights? Could they even see him to begin with? Those dead, yellow eyes, those unblinking faces... how did they sense him in the first place?

Joe supposed the how wasn't half as important as the fact that they could, though. And they definitely could, as the increasing volume of the sounds of their footsteps and the rising anticipation in their disturbing moans more than attested.

He stumbled deeper into the forest, thinking all the while that he should have stuck to the streets. The paved roads, clear of obstacles, would have made it easier for him to just keep going.

But then again, the uneven ground of the forest could have worked to his advantage, as well. Zombies weren't the most graceful of creatures. They might be stumbling and falling all over themselves. It might be just enough to get away.

That distant hope put a brief burst of speed into him, so he was moving too quickly to avoid the branch.

He almost saw it in time, snaking out from the leaves, and tried to stop. But the ground was slick with mud, and he skidded far enough to get wrapped up in the thorny branches. Trying to free himself only made things worse, as his pants' leg stuck in the thick bramble, and every movement only succeeded in throwing him more and more off balance.

The fall seemed to come in slow motion, and Joe felt like he was outside of it, watching this cartoonish nonsense happening to someone else.

He landed on his shoulder hard, sending fire shooting down his back and side. He tried to roll over to get off it, and the world seemed to drop out from under him.

He bounced and slid, falling hard down a hill he hadn't even realized was there, until he finally came to a stop on something hard and unyielding. And... gray?

Joe looked up, and realized he had somehow stumbled into a town. Or at least some kind of shopping center. It was the clear path he had been wanting only moments earlier. But would it do him any good?

He turned and saw the zombies, already stumbling down the hill, but most of them on a much less steep path than he had taken. They would be on him in moments, before he even got the chance to get back to his feet. If he could get back to his feet.

Resignation set in, and he closed his eyes and turned away, waiting for the end.

There was a thump and he felt the weight as the first zombie fell on him. Then several more thumps and the weight shifted. A scream rose in his throat, but caught, dying there, as he realized it was pure reaction.

He didn't feel any pain.

And there had been that strange whistling sound. And a few too many thumping sounds.

Slowly, not really willing yet to believe, he opened his eyes.

The zombies were all around him and on top of him, but they weren't moving.