I turn away from Frank to stop myself from looking at his crotch, just in case he is actually aroused, that would be awkward, I shake my head, but stop quickly when my injured skull gives several throbs of protest. Natalie reaches out a hand to push the loose strands of hair back from my face, she tilts my head to the side, dark blue eyes brooding.
"You'll live" she nods as she swipes at the blood trickling down the side of my face.
"Excellent news" I comment dryly, she smirks. I feel blood trickle down the back of my neck as well, and I sigh as I realise that my shirt is no doubt ruined.
Pandora attempts to clamber back up onto Nat's lap, and Nat has to struggle to keep the overbearing dog down, I chuckle, but the sound is cut off as I hear sounds outside the car, the mist obscures my vision of anything out there, but everyone hears it too.
"Is that moans?" someone, a male voice, asks.
"Its the general sound the zombies make" I mutter sarcastically.
I flip on the cars lights, and I gasp, Nat yells out, Pandora snarls, and as everyone else catches sight of the crowd of zombies lumbering forward towards the car they cry out or even scream. Shit.
I search my pockets desperately, looking for the keys, everyone is shouting, and zombies have reached the car, sprawling over the hood and reaching for us blindly, the smarter ones start to move around to the doors.
"Where is the fucking keys?!" I scream in frustration.
A pale hand reaches between our seats and near the steering wheel, I gasp, jerking away in shock, and then the car is roaring into life. I glance round, to see large hazel eyes staring at me from a short distance away.
"They were in the ignition" Frank smirks at me, stretching between the seats, totally unconcerned, or too humoured by my idiocy to be scared.
"Fuck off" I glare at him, and he chuckles as he flops back into his seat.
I seize the wheel and gun the acceleration, throwing the car into drive. People are still yelling, and the moans outside have become almost defining, music plays quietly from the radio.
"Please tell me you're not going to-" Nat gasps, but I'm already driving.
We hurtle towards the line of zombies, and I watch as their dead and greying faces are squished up against the windscreen, rolling off the bonnet and crashing to the ground in our wake. We hit obstacle after obstacle, and I wince as my wing mirror is snapped off, and blood coats my side of the car.
People yell, the dogs bark, the zombies continue to groan, my arms ache with the effort to keep the car under control.
"Nat!" I yell, and she reaches over to flick off the stereo, which still yells music at me.
A zombie catches hold of the windscreen wipers and doesn't roll off, its a woman, large in size, with a round face, only one cheek is missing, probably bitten off. She headbutts the glass, and her fat hands pound at it. I growl, jerking the car to side, but she hangs on.
"Nat, the wheel!" I shout at her and she frowns, but reaches over to grasp the wheel.
I jerk down the window and yank a knife from my belt, I lean out of the window, being sure to keep my foot on the accelerator, I dodge a zombie that we hurtle past, and then I reach for the fat one on our car. She snarls at me, reaching with her sausage fingers, I stab at her fingers, but she doesn't even notice. I push my hair impatiently from my eyes, and gasp when her teeth just miss the tip of my nose.