Don't Whistle Past the Graveyard

Ch. Twenty-Three

Shane was going to kill me.

Even if I ended up dead, he would still kill me.

That's only kind of a zombie joke.

This was stupid. So, so stupid, And crazy to boot.

First, I needed a way to tell Kyle. Before Shane came back downstairs.

I slipped into the kitchen and looked for anything I could write on. I smiled when I saw one of those little whiteboards on the fridge people use to leave notes.

I took a moment to tighten the laces of my boots and took a deep breath. This got more insane the more I thought about it.

So, the solution was to not think about it. Remember #2? Don't over-complicate.

I went around the stairs until I got to where I could see Kyle and he could see me, but I still stayed out of sight of the zombies.

He looked over at me and frowned. I held up a finger, then wrote: I have an idea.

Kyle read this, and his frown deepened.

I rubbed out the first message, then wrote: I need your help.

Kyle gave me a look that clearly said: How the fuck am I supposed to do anything?

I grimaced, then wrote: I can lead them away.

Kyle's eyes widened and he shook his head violently.

I took a deep breath and wrote: Tell Shane I'll meet you guys back where the truck ran out of gas.

Kyle shook his head again. He pointed up, then drew a finger across his throat, then pointed at himself.

I wrote: Shane is not going to kill you.

Kyle folded his arms and raised a skeptical eyebrow.

I wrote: You literally can't stop me. Just tell Shane. I'll get to you when I can.

Kyle looked exceptionally pissed. But, like I'd told him, he couldn't do anything to stop me. The zombies thumping against the glass getting steadily more agitated seemed to remind him of that fact. 

I took another deep breath, then wrote: If I don't reach you in a few hours, just go.

Kyle looked down. I could see his hands shaking a little. He was really angry, which kind of surprised me.

I went back around the stairs until I reached the side door in the kitchen. It faced the south, and I opened it quietly, slipping outside.

Edging around to the side of the house, my heart was pounding hard enough that it shook my body. I peered around the corner of the house, the brick cool against my back.

No more zombies were coming from the south, but now there were six or seven on the porch, trying to get into the house. I flinched when one of them pounded on the window, cracking the glass. Adrenaline coursed through me, making me feel a little shaky.

I took another breath, praying a little. Good thing I'd kept up on my cardio.

I heard the glass crack again, pieces chiming to the ground, and ran out into the street.

"Hey!" I yelled. "Come on! Over here!"

The zombies all turned and growled at me in unison. I grimaced when I saw that one had a chunk of its cheek torn out, and one of the others had its intestines spilling out in shiny, white ropes.

That's all I had time to notice, though, because two of the more fresh zombies were running after me.

They moved weirdly. Kind of jerky, like their muscles couldn't quite figure out what it was the zombies wanted them to do.