Blood - A Zombie Apocalypse Novel

Everything turns to shit

If we continued at the speed we were going, we should be in Thorburn within half an hour. Ideally it would be good to get their sooner, but it was better to pace ourselves so we had energy should we run into trouble.

I turned back briefly to find three more zombies had joined the first. We were far away enough not to be seen, but it would be a wise idea to keep an eye on them. I was walking briskly, prepared to break into a run at the first sign of danger. My head flicked back unconsciously and several moved into view.

We were on a flat patch on road, with the street dropping away sharply behind us. Ahead of us the street inclined further, obscuring what lay ahead from view. Behind us what we had passed was also hidden.

My head was turning more frequently now as I urgently tried to map my surroundings. This did not look good. The further we went, the more road disappeared, and yet the number of zombies increased. There was around eight now trudging up the hill. It was not encouraging. They hadn’t seen us, but they seemed to sense that we were there. Whether it was due to smell or some unconscious tug, they could feel where food was. They wouldn’t be bothering to move uphill otherwise.

We were lightly jogging now. Despite the fact that we were moving faster than the undead, the gap between us just wasn’t increasing. Keep calm, I told myself. No need to panic, not yet anyway. You have weapons, stamina and intelligence. You’ll be fine.

I looked back again and quickly counted the zoms. Thirteen. Thirteen bloodthirsty zombies, who’s only thought is tearing you apart and removing your flesh from your bones, following you up a hill. No, definitely no need to panic there.

Why was there so many? There shouldn’t be, not this high up, not when majority of the population had already died in the first infection. It was a small town, with not even that many people to turn. What zombies there were should be in the center of town, not on an empty street. Even one such as this, which lead to several other streets.

I turned back to look ahead of us, just as the next mound rolled over and showed us where we were heading. Which, evidently, was directly toward a zombie.

I froze in place. The creature raised its head and bared it’s yellowed teeth. A large chunk of meat was missing from it’s skull, a layer of mold concealing the bone. It’s spine gutted out of it’s back as it bent forward, tilting it’s head as it examined me. A low groan emitted it’s throat.

Jacob let his gun hang by his side and pulled a balisong out of his pocket, flicking it open in one swift moment. I decided now was not the time to mention how cool I thought those were. He nodded at my katana, then the zoms behind us. Silent would be the way to go.

The one ahead of us crouched and hissed loudly. I ran forwards, moving swiftly and silently, my sword gleaming by my side. The zombie separated from its head and fell.

I turned. One of the walking undead was walking faster than the rest. He paused, ahead of his companions. I stood as still as I could as he looked over us. Zombies weren’t particularly intelligent, nor did they have particularly good eye sight. If we stayed still we would appear to be inanimate objects, just part of the surroundings.

I looked at the zombie. His body was that of a man in his late 40s. His head was bald, his belly slightly round. He was wearing a matted old football jersey. Perhaps he was once a loving father of two. Hardworking, but caring. The sort of man who would make sure to come home at night to spend time with his family, and of course, watch the footy.

Or perhaps he was an abusive husband. A drunk, who blew all his wages at the pub. The sort of man who would spend every other night there, watching the game, before coming home to yell at his wife for overcooking his steak.