Claustrophobic | Skephalo

Undead Zak

Zak

What's a fast way to kill something? Go for the head? That seems right. Or maybe I'm supposed to go for the heart—

Zak was already halfway back to the Target, and he had no idea what he was going to do to get a piece of a zombie. Unless he found something lying on the ground, he had to kill one. The thought caused Zak to tremble in fear.

The zombies inside near the pharmacy seemed easy enough for Zak to kill, but it would be loud, and then he would be cornered if more showed up. The ones in the food isle were stronger and smarter, but he had an easy escape if anything went wrong.

The debate going on inside of Zak's head was exhausting.

It's hot. Has it been this hot all day?

Zak rolled up the sleeves on his blue hoodie, wiping sweat off his forehead. He hadn't noticed how much his body was aching until the back of his hand touched his face.

I'm just nervous. Yeah, that's it. I've never killed anything before.

He was stuck on what to do. So he walked on, each step getting slower and heavier as he approached the dreaded Target. Suddenly, Zak wasn't sure impressing Darryl was worth it anymore. He picked up a medium-sized rock.

Too late now. I'm almost there.

Zak felt dizzy. The rock felt like it weighed a ton. The sun's vibrancy only seemed to increase as he walked towards the store, which was now in sight. But Zak wasn't sure he was going to make it that far. He dropped the rock, hands instinctively grabbing his knees. Everything was spinning, and the more Zak tried to move the worse it got.

I can't do this. I need to rest.

He turned around to head back, and was met with a face full of dust.

What? I'm on the ground.

The dirty sidewalk scratched his cheek as Zak attempted to stand, but his arms simply couldn't support his weight anymore. They were too shaky. He fell back down repeatedly, taking deep breaths.

Stupid Advil. I probably didn't take enough. Or maybe it was expired? My head is killing me.

He tried again to raise himself up for the third time, but it just resulted in his cheek slamming into the pavement again.

His eyes rolled backwards as the world went dark, and then Zak couldn't move at all.

• • •

Darryl

The sun had already started to set as Darryl made his way back to the city. He had been walking for hours, resulting in the soles of his feet swelling. All Darryl's body wanted to do was sit down, but he knew he had to find out where Zak chose to stay first. His friend.

How Zak has managed to stay alive for so long without getting in a single fight with a monster both shocked and impressed Darryl at the same time.

He's just a kid. An innocent kid.

And Darryl couldn't wait to see him.

It's been a long time since he called anyone his friend— Over six months, at least, since his last friend, Vincent, abandoned him.

Darryl doesn't like to think about what happened between him and Vincent. It just makes him sad. Maybe a little angry. Either way, he has Zak to protect now, and he was going to take it very seriously.

So that's why when Darryl approached the Target and saw Zak facedown in the dirt, he felt like his heart had stopped beating.

"Zak?!"

Darryl rolled the boy over and checked his pulse.

Thank goodness. He's not dead.

But they were in trouble. As the sun slipped beneath the horizon, the groan of zombies started to become audible. And they were getting louder, too.

"Zak, wake up." Darryl shook Zak's shoulders, only getting a small moan as the boy's head crashed against Darryl's chest. "It's Darryl. You gotta get up, they're coming."

Darryl was only met with silence.

A lone zombie spotted the pair and stumbled towards them. Darryl grabbed his sword from the shealth that's strapped to his pant leg, and charged. He ran the blade through the poor undead's neck, leaving it writhing on the ground, screaming.

Sliding his sword away, Darryl wished it would've stayed quiet. Kneeling back by Zak's side, he heard the thunder of a large group of zombies approaching.

Oh, crap.

"Zak, I need you to get up, now!" Darryl yelled, slapping his face lightly.

"Darryl?" Zak's voice was so soft that Darryl could barely hear it at over the roar of the zombies. "Darryl, what—?"

"We don't have time for this!" Darryl picked Zak up and basically tossed him over his shoulder as the zombies got closer. Then, he ran.

"Left," Zak mumbled in Darryl's ear.

So he took a left, and kept running while Zak directed him to the place he had picked as a shelter earlier.

But the street ahead was full of zombies.

"Zak, I can't go that way. Is there another entrance?" Darryl asks, ducking behind a wall. One of his hands cradled Zak's head, and his other arm held Zak up. There's no way Darryl could fight off any of them.

"It's the red one. Little red house."

"Okay, that's great, but I can't even get on the street. Is there another way inside?"

"I lived in a red house before the zombies showed up. It wasn't as small, though."

"Zak, I need you to focus. Is there a window, or a back door?"

"My room had the best window with the best view. I could always see when the pizza man came—"

Darryl tuned out Zak's feverish mumbling.

I need to cause a distraction. But how? Nothing around can make a noise loud enough to distract all of— Wait. An explosion. An explosion would work.

Finding a Creeper wouldn't be hard. Although most of the ones around the city had been detonated already, Darryl knew that there were a ton of unarmed ones stored underground. He would only need to grab one, set it on a timer, and run.

But what about Zak? I can't leave him here alone! Can I?

Darryl set Zak down against the wall carefully.

"Zak, I need to get something. It's really important that you stay here, and stay quiet. I'll only be a minute. Are you okay with that?"

"Mmm." Zak nodded, his head lolling to the side a little. Sweat trickled down his neck, and his sweatshirt was covered in dirt. He looked in pretty rough shape.

Darryl was determined to get him home safely.