Ok, Who Got Bitten?

Survival of the Fittest

I don’t know what to say, other than I’m glad no one was around to see me flail my machete frantically through the air and scream like a baby as the zombies advanced. I mean, I was hoping to ease on into the zombie killing business, maybe killing one or two at most for awhile until I got used to it. But taking on five at a time? I can’t even fight one regular person let alone a horde of zombies.

But I guess my technique worked, because I closed my eyes and could feel the blade cut at rubbery flesh. I dared open one eye and saw the slice where the machete made contact. Thick, congealed blood oozed out of the wound slowly, brown and globular. The thick mort-flesh sloughed off of its face around the cut,  smacking hard onto the ground.

Okay, something’s wrong, I thought. If it was a new zombie, it’s flesh wouldn’t be sloughing off yet. Had this person been dead for awhile?

My thoughts were interrupted as my stomach threatened to send up what remaining food I still had and I fought not only the zombies but myself as I backed away slowly. I felt lightheaded, the beginning signs of one of my famous “fake faints”, my stomach’s contents roiling; but I quickly forgot about the rancid blood as a zombie lurched my way.

 It descended upon me, and I had no time to think about blood or the other gross things that the zombies left in their wake. All I had room to worry about was staying alive for the sake of my sister. I swallowed that nasty tasting puke spit and advanced.

I used the machete to carve out a large chunk of flesh, exposing muscle and tissue under the arm of one of my attackers. This did not deter the zombie, for it felt no pain and continued towards me.

I heard my sister run out of the door behind me, and I whipped my head around to see she was carrying our old box television. But once she saw the zombies she stopped and looked at me.

“Sam! Run away, they’re going to eat you!” she screamed, tears threatening to flood her eyes once more. But I had enough of crying for one day.

I turned and ran full force into the group of zombies, knocking them over but sending myself to the ground as well.

“Don’t worry about me Rachael!” I called, scrambling to get to my feet as the zombies clawed longingly at my jeans. “Focus on getting that door open.” I kicked one zombie square in the jaw and I heard a sickening snap as my foot pulled away. Ew.

Rachael hefted the television and, looking back once more towards me, hurled it at the window. The glass shattered, the little shards flying everywhere. The television landed on top of the corpse which used to be my mother, pinning her down to the seat.

 Using the television as a shield, my sister reached into the car and pulled the unlock button. She opened the door and unbuckled my mom, releasing her from her harness.

But my dad beat her to it. Surprisingly fast, he climbed over my mom and snarled as he leapt to the ground. My sister screamed and backed away.

By this time, all of the zombies were up again and closing in. My sister and I ended up back to back, the horde on my side and my father on the other, my mom struggling to throw the television off all the while.

“Back up back up back up!” I screamed at Rachael, pushing her backwards as the zombies advanced, their hands grasping.

“Nooo!” she screamed, pushing right back as my parents lurched forward.

“I’ve got five on my side!” I cried.

“You’ve got a freaking machete!”

I looked down at the machete, realizing that I hadn’t been using it in the last few minutes, and raised it to begin fighting off the zombies once more. But just then I heard a sharp crack and one zombie went down, crumpled into a pile of rotting meat.