World of the Dead

Dead Radio

The first infected reached Paul with her arms extended for a deadly embrace. He didn't let her get any closer though and swung his hatchet at her head. He aimed a bit too low however and ended up embedding the blade into her neck instead. It got lodged part-way through, letting out a spray of reddish-brown blood that soaked into her blue blouse and making her stagger. Unbothered by her wound, she flopped her now slightly decapitated head to look at him and let out a gurgling hiss.

"Holy FUCK!" he yelled, now swearing freely that his son was out of earshot.

Taking another mighty swing, he successfully plunged the hatchet into her skull with a meaty squelch and crunching sound that made Quinn's stomach turn. The infected woman fell to the ground with a final grunt and jerk, blood pooling around her head and neck.

Fourteen left and more coming.

Quinn was facing an older man who must have been around sixtyish and was wearing a filthy plaid shirt and ripped up jeans. His left shoe was missing, showing off his bloody foot. She was surprised at how strong he was; shoving another infected man to the ground as if he were competing to reach an all you can eat buffet.

Not wanting to be his main course Quinn readied her wrench, holding it like a bat and preparing to swing. Waited until he was a bit closer, the stench of human shit, blood, urine, and rot coming off him in waves and making her head swim. When he was just about to grab her, she clenched her jaw and swung as hard as she could...

And fucking missed.

It was almost in slow motion; the wrench sailing over his balding head, seeing the rabid hunger in his eyes as he grabbed her shoulders and knocked her down, and seeing his drooling, filthy mouth open wide as he prepared to take a bite.

Shrieking, she managed to grab his face and stop him from taking her nose off. He was screaming and snarling, clutching her arms hard enough to hurt and snapping his teeth at her in a crazed bloodlust. Some of his saliva dripped onto her cheek, making her shudder and curse. She realized that she was at a serious disadvantage, as he was able to press his full weight down on her. She couldn't keep a hold on his face; it dipped closer and closer to hers and she could smell his rancid breath.

Just as Quinn thought she was going to die horribly, a brown blur slammed into her attacker's temple, knocking him off her with a crack. Debbie stood over her, a bloody bat in her hand and her chest heaving. Blood splattered her shirt and arms, giving her a frightening appearance.

"Up up up up," she hollered over the noise, yanking Quinn to her feet and shoving her wrench into her hands.

The man wasn't moving so she turned away from him, focusing her attention on the teen girl in a ripped-up shirt stumbling towards her. This time she didn't miss, smacking her head with her weapon and knocking to girl to the ground. It didn't kill her like she had hoped; she was scrabbling to her feet. So, Quinn had to hit her twice more, once on her face and obliterating her nose, the next on the back of her skull.

Debbie surprised Quinn with how vicious she was. Whenever an infected person got too close to the car or to Paul if his back was turned, she swooped in and beat them to death with a frightening look on her face. Soon enough her hands were slick with blood and her bat was covered in red chunks.

Liam was also merciless to the infected. He didn't hesitate to take out a teen boy or an old woman, didn't look sorry when he had to take a second or third swing. He had clearly accepted that these people were long gone and replaced with monsters.

Finally, after nearly twenty minutes of fighting, the last man was knocked down and finished by Paul. All of them were heaving and gasping for air, exhausted. Quinn was bent over with her hands on her knees, taking gulping breaths and gagging when she inevitably inhaled the horrible smell that seemed to stick in her nostrils and throat.