26: Fearful Flight

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Sparks flew from the dead man as he stood and ripped free of the wires connected to his skin and the mechanism holding him. Lifeless white eyes stared unblinking at her as his mouth hung agape in a silent scream. Fingers like curled claws, he reached for her, lunging across the desk with unexpected speed as Harley tried to leave.

Darting back from the grasping fingers, Harley braced a foot against the wall behind her before pushing off with all her might in a forward leap to kick the zombie in the face and send it tumbling back over the desk. A ragged hand slammed to the top of the desk as the dead man staggered to get his unresponsive legs under him and pursue her once more. Harley wasn't waiting and raced out the door.

The guards on patrol must've heard the commotion in the back room as they were running toward her position, guns held ready. Harley might've been able to take them if they hadn't been so heavily armed, but she knew it'd be impossible to counter or dodge the number of bullets they could send in her direction.

Fear filled her veins. It dragged its skeletal fingers down her spine and left a cold sweat in its wake. Her stomach tightened into a painful knot. She could hear the raspy breathing of the dead man in the room behind her, his heavy footsteps echoing in her ears as he drew ever closer, ready to clamp his hands down upon her from behind.

Without a plan or strategy in mind other than survival, Harley bolted in the direction of the nearest exit. Vaulting over a handrail and dropping to a lower level, she dived between a conveyor belt system and a stack of dusty pallets. Automatic weapons' fire peppered the wood pallets with bullet holes as the guns tracked her movement.

The room was a blur around her. Vaulting over machinery, skidding around corners, diving through the open cab of a forklift to land in a tumbling roll amid a hail of bullets. She kept moving, but the fear kept pace with her, scratching at the back of her mind and refusing to be forgotten. The door with the bright exit sign seemed miles away. Pain exploded as a bullet tore through her right arm near the shoulder. The impact threw off her stride and dumped her to the floor. Scrambling to her feet, willing herself forward, Harley forced her way to the door, leaving a trail of blood behind.

Her lungs hurt as she sprinted toward where she'd parked her car; her arm felt bathed in fire. Her teeth were clenched, not only against the pain, but against the nagging thoughts in her mind that she was going to die anyway and should simply accept it. Another voice in her head told her a second bullet was liable to catch up with her any second and end her escape on the spot. The muscles in her back tensed, waiting for the impact.

She could see her car, but it was so far way. The guards spotted her. From behind her she heard men shouting, guns firing, boots thudding against pavement. They were gaining on her. She detected other things as well, snarls and a low and guttural growl. Harley hadn't noticed any guard dogs, but these were bigger, deeper sounds than anything a dog could make. They reminded her of a horror movie she'd seen once about a werewolf.

Harley knew better than to look back, but her fear wouldn't let her ignore it. She took a quick glance over her shoulder and instantly regretted it. Black fur, gleaming claws, fangs the length of knives bared to bite, the beast was only a few feet behind her. She could feel its hot breath on the skin of her neck.

The car impacted her ribs so hard, it took the wind from her lungs for a moment. She'd been sure her vehicle had been further away, but Harley didn't question it, pulling the door open and climbing in as fast as she could. The door slammed shut an instant before the werewolf collided with the driver's side door. With a similarity to nails on a chalkboard, its claws scratched furrows in the paint and metal of her door.

The seat belt clicked into place. Hands shaking badly, it took Harley three attempts to get the key in the ignition. The window turned into a spider web of fractures under the force of a clawed hand. Revving the engine, she dropped it into gear and slammed her foot on the accelerator. Gravel sprayed behind the car as it roared away from the factory. A check of her side mirror showed no sign of the large werewolf. When she looked in the rearview mirror, she couldn't see the road, only glowing golden eyes above a maw of sharp teeth.

The werewolf's growl shook the car like an earthquake. A car horn drew her attention for a split second, and Harley realized she'd drifted into oncoming traffic. She jerked the wheel back the other direction, but overcompensated. The car went out of control, struck the guardrail and slid along it in a fireworks display of hot sparks before the barrier gave way and her car went off the side of the hill.

The vehicle plunged down at tremendous speed, trees and rocks flying past the windows in blurs of greens, browns, and grays. The front wheel stuck a large rock and caused the car to upend, the back lifting up into the sky and continuing its uncontrollable forward momentum while the front end of the car hung up on the rock. The car tumbled end over end, contorting and breaking apart with every impact against the ground until the vehicle slammed into a tree and Harley's world went instantly silent and black.

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