The Zombie Virus (Watty Awards)

Chapter 7

The zombie impacted with the windshield of our car, making it crack, and nearly cave in. If the zombie plunged toward it again, it would definitely fall in. I could feel adrenaline rushing through my veins, my brain forcing battle tactics into well-formed plans. Finally deciding, I chose the best one.

"Quick! Rebecca! Get the shotgun in the back!!!" She obeyed, lurching into the trunk area, searching underneath our many bags. "I can't find it! All these bags are in the way!"

I looked over at my mom, and she returned my glare with a knowing look. It was Rebecca's countless number of bags that were about to get us killed. I reached for my mother's hand, wanting nothing but the comfort of being with someone I loved when death was so near.

I looked ahead, scarcely being able to see past the cracked glass, but it was still clear to me what was about to happen. What was about to take place on this sad, cold day. Our deaths. I tried to embrace the thought that I was ready, ready to die and meet my sister, my father, and Laurie, but for some reason I just wasn't. This was not what I thought death would feel like. I guess I thought death would be more...peaceful. You know, that moment where you see yourself from above, about to leave this earth, and everything becomes...still, and hushed. That split second when it all ends, you see your family, your friends, everything, and you welcome them all back because finally, you're at peace and you will never leave them again. But if this was death, it wasn't anything like that.

The zombie raced towards us, forcing the windshield to fall on top of me and my mother. A warm, sticky substance covered me in various places on my arms and neck, all places where I'd been cut from the glass.

He plopped on top of the car's hood, mere seconds from reaching my mother and I. His nasty fingernails clawed at the hood, leaving long, thin scratches in white paint on the hood. What should I do? Should I fight with no weapons but my hands alone? No. That would be stupid. Should I run? No. I do not run no matter how bad the situation. Not to mention, I'm not going to leave my mother.

The zombie's hand was inches away from me, from scratching and clawing me to my death. I was about to slap the revolting hand away, but then thought better of it. I sat scared in my seat, awaiting my fall. This was it. This was that great moment I had been waiting for.

"Wait! I found it!" she raced through the car, as fast as possible. She nearly froze in her tracks when she saw the zombie. She handed me the gun, like an idiot, without even thinking to load it or try and smack the zombie with it. "Gee thanks." I said sarcastically.

I barely had room to maneuver around the zombie when I rammed the butt of the gun deep into his arm, making him flinch, but not falter. He looked a bit annoyed, as if I was ruining his plans. His arm reached even closer, so this time I hit him a good three times before his arm retreated. And for no reason at all, he got up off the hood of the car and sprinted off.

What had just happened? Why did he just give up like that? Just stop completely? No zombie has ever been like that...There is no way he is giving up. NO WAY.

"It's gone!!!" Rebecca shouted with joy, sounding like a child again.

I looked at Lidia, seeing the awestruck look she had. I then looked over at my mom, and her expression matched Lidia's. Not buying it, I wanted as much protection as I could get.

"Rebecca! I need some shells! Fast!"

"But why? It just left. It obviously gave up toying with us."She retorted.

"No it hasn't. No zombie ever gives up that easy or ever will. Get me some stinkin' bullets, now. I need to kill the thing when it comes back." I convinced her.