Dead Days

Chapter 3

It was a lot closer than it originally sounded; it must have been fast once it knew I was here. 

I decided to approach it than let it come to me, putting my flashlight on a shelf so I could have both hands on the tool in my hands. 

I took the few steps closer to it before swinging the ax at it, somehow missing. The ax went into the shelves and the infected took that as an opportunity to get at me. It grabbed me with its one arm, the other one completely gone, leaving the tissue and skin on it to flap around at it tried grabbing me with its missing arm. 

It grabbed my jacket. To keep it as far as I could, I started backing up only to trip over my bag full of cans on the ground behind me. I tumbled down, flailing out one arm to try to grab onto the shelf, failing, and knocking more cans off of the shelf to fall onto me and the infected. 

The infected landed on top of me, clanking its teeth in hopes of biting me even though I was holding it away. It seemed like it completely forgot it could use its arms. 

As my arms decided to start giving out on me, the infected was suddenly ripped off of me. Whoever did it backed away as the thing started to get back up, now focusing its attention on the newcomer. 

Another person came out from behind the first one, holding a wooden baseball bat and brought it down on the infecteds head repeatedly, its head eventually splitting open like a watermelon. 

I just sat there, staring at him as he took a step away from the thing, wide-eyed. I was surprised the thing was down, everything else I've seen not working to take them down. Well, I guess they knew how to. 

The guy who took down the infected held out his free hand to me. I accepted the help, him pulling me up as I 'dusted' myself off, rubbing my soon-to-be bruised arm. 

I studied the two people, the girl was further away and looking uneasy about being out in the open. She had a gun that she didn't look too excited about using. She was rather short, her black hair was tied up in a ponytail on the back of her head. Her bright blue eyes scanned our surroundings as if waiting for a danger to approach. 

Her friend looked a lot more disorganized than her. He looked like he hasn't shaved in a while, and his brown hair looked like he ran his fingers through it a couple time too many. 

He was the one to break the silence, "So, um..." 

Rubbing my arm as if to stop the pain, I looked up at him, "Who are you?"