Zomb-Pocalypse 6

Chapter One

The grass once perfectly manicured only a couple of days ago, is now slick with blood- both black and red from the living and the dead. Some of the people here were twisted and sick and probably deserved this, but most of them don't. I try not to think about the families and the kids I met as we sprint through their viscera pooled in the grass.

This must have been what it was like in the very beginning for people. I only ever got a small taste of it that first morning before I was rescued by Abby and Megan and got out. The sheer number of the dead walking the streets, turning any living breathing humans into monsters until there is no one left but them.

Ryan releases my hand and brings the oar up, knocking two of the closest zombies back, and making an opening just wide enough for us to run through.

Another zombie lets out an excited moan and reaches for me, arms swinging. Instinctively I duck and try to avoid its flailing arms and blackened fingernails, not wanting to waste time to stop and deal with it, but it manages to catch the tail end of my ponytail. I feel a moment of panic as my head snaps back and my eyes water. I can't control the shriek that bubbles out of my throat. Ryan quickly clubs the offending zombie over the top of the head, and it goes down, pulling out a chunk of my hair with it.

The zombie hits the ground with a dull thump, but it's still moving. Part of me wants to stop and curb stomp it into oblivion for the pain it inflicted on me, but there is no time for revenge. Neither of us stops to finish it off; our only advantage here is speed. Zombies can't run, and we can; though some of the fresher zombies are faster, I've still never actually seen one that could full-on run- thank God for small miracles.

We have no idea where we're going. It's just one big game of defense while we frantically run in zigzags to avoid all the snapping teeth. This was a terrible idea; we need to find somewhere to stop and regroup. We're sitting ducks out here. We jog down the middle of the street, avoiding zombies and dodging around reaching gnarled fingers.

It's much more challenging than I anticipated to find somewhere that isn't infested with the dead; not only that, but we are starting to gather a small horde behind us like a couple of zombie-pied pipers. My heart is pounding so hard in my chest that I'm scared I'm going to drop from a heart attack right here in the middle of the chase.

A blood-curdling scream pulls me from my internal beratement for getting us into this situation. "Ryan," I say as I turn towards the sound and pick up my pace. It's a little bit to the right of where we were already headed, but pretty much the same direction.

"Jane." Ryan objects, but he still follows when I change course. It's not like we know if we should be running in one direction or the other anyway. I strain my ears to try and hear over the noise of the dead.

"I think it's this way," I yell as I dodge around a particularly crusty-looking zombie. He's one of the older zombies and is predictably slower.

"Jane, we can't run around saving people." Ryan objects, and even though I know he has the best intentions for me, I can't help but be annoyed.

"Why not?" I fire back as I wind up my ax and crack a zombie in the center of the forehead. It goes down, and I stop for a millisecond to pull my ax free. Ryan smashes two more zombies in the face with his oar, and they go down as well, opening up a space for us to keep going. Mike lets out a woof of approval, and I almost swear the big German Shepard is enjoying this as his tongue lolls out of his mouth, and he bounds over the bodies like some sort of show dog. Ryan hasn't had the breath to answer me yet, so I continue like I didn't just ask him a question. "We should be trying to save as many people as we can always before we all go extinct."

Ryan glances over at me sharply but doesn't say anything else as he swings at another zombie. I don't want to complain right after my big speech, but I'm getting tired. I've been running on nothing but pure adrenaline the last fifteen or twenty minutes, and even though we aren't in any less trouble, I think the adrenaline is starting to wane. I guess your body can't keep pumping it out willy nilly, even to save your ass. It makes me miss the days of Google, and I tell myself if we survive, I'm going to find a library and a book on biology and look this up. It's dumb, but these are the little things that keep me from going insane. "Over there," Ryan says, interrupting my crazed goal setting, and I follow the direction of the oar he's using to point.