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Authors: S. Johnathan Davis
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spoke as I crept over and peeled the dead fingers off of the tube to slide it out of the gas tank. The cold, rigid arm fell to the pavement with a thump.
Two days ago, I would have shit myself at the sight of a severed arm. Today, I just touched it, and kicked its accompanying legs out of the way so I could steal some gas. It dawned on me that this was the reality. There was no turning back.
As I moved towards the Hummer, Kyle opened the gas tank latch. I fed our escape vehicle its precious liquid.
“It’s going to take a hell of a lot more than three gallons to keep this thing full,” I said out loud.
Kyle agreed with an understanding nod. I fiddled with the siphon, taking a mouthful of gasoline, before I figured out how it worked. I choked and spat until my stomach heaved violently, but I couldn’t quite get the taste from my mouth.
We made it back and forth three times, though I had the feeling that the Hummer was nowhere near half a tank. We were so distracted that we didn’t see them creeping up on us until we were nearly surrounded.
The postman was the first one I noticed. A creature, bumping into him, knocked the brown package out of his hand, which alerted us to their presence.
Those tenacious fuckers, I thought. They had followed us for miles, slowly making their way down the roads. Looking for their next meal. There was ten of them; all the ones we had seen on the way to the gas station, plus a few extra that had lumbered in. It was a small swarm.
We both drew our weapons knowing that we were clearly outnumbered, but sometimes, the numbers don’t mean jack-shit when you have the right strategy and a little luck.
The first ones to attack were slower. Not like the ones from the day before.
Have to keep our cool, I thought as my clammy palms tightened around the wooden handle of my hammer.
Screaming out orders like a boot camp drill sergeant, Kyle had us working together building a fierce defense. As the creatures lumbered over one by one, he simply pushed them back by digging his pole into their chest, and I reached out and cracked them on top of the skull when they were off balance. They were spread out enough for this to work for the first six that approached.
Kyle and I were slowly retreating backwards. The Hummer was much further away than I had felt comfortable with , and the engine was still running. We had let ourselves be pushed against the glass door of the filling station.
The more recently dead, like the postman and his th ree friends, were too fast, making our current tactics useless. When they came at us from both sides, I lost my balance and fell backward bouncing against the filling station wall, thrusting me towards the hard pavement with a crash that sent my hammer bouncing a few feet from my grasp.
Kyle stepped back, swinging his metal rod around over his head to create a diversion. For the most part, it worked; three of them went after him. However, the postman lunged on top of me. I reached up and grabbed his postal bag satchel; sliding the strap between his teeth as he came down at my face.
Rotting flesh reeked from his mouth as I was barely keeping him from chomping down. The stench alone was enough to make my fight falter. One of the other creatures, a large bastard dressed in overalls, left Kyle and jumped on top of the postman, climbing up over his shoulders.
With the breath knocked out of me, my eyes locked onto the hammer that was just out of my reach. Pinned to the ground, with these cold monsters clamoring to sink their teeth into my body, I needed to make my move. This wasn’t where I was going to die.
Letting go of the satchel strap, I let the postman drill his forehead into my shoulder. Rocking back and forth and with two big jerks, I was able to pivot my upper body just close enough to the wooden handle that would save my life.
I brought the hammer down on the postman first. He still had the strap stuck in his mouth,
Two days ago, I would have shit myself at the sight of a severed arm. Today, I just touched it, and kicked its accompanying legs out of the way so I could steal some gas. It dawned on me that this was the reality. There was no turning back.
As I moved towards the Hummer, Kyle opened the gas tank latch. I fed our escape vehicle its precious liquid.
“It’s going to take a hell of a lot more than three gallons to keep this thing full,” I said out loud.
Kyle agreed with an understanding nod. I fiddled with the siphon, taking a mouthful of gasoline, before I figured out how it worked. I choked and spat until my stomach heaved violently, but I couldn’t quite get the taste from my mouth.
We made it back and forth three times, though I had the feeling that the Hummer was nowhere near half a tank. We were so distracted that we didn’t see them creeping up on us until we were nearly surrounded.
The postman was the first one I noticed. A creature, bumping into him, knocked the brown package out of his hand, which alerted us to their presence.
Those tenacious fuckers, I thought. They had followed us for miles, slowly making their way down the roads. Looking for their next meal. There was ten of them; all the ones we had seen on the way to the gas station, plus a few extra that had lumbered in. It was a small swarm.
We both drew our weapons knowing that we were clearly outnumbered, but sometimes, the numbers don’t mean jack-shit when you have the right strategy and a little luck.
The first ones to attack were slower. Not like the ones from the day before.
Have to keep our cool, I thought as my clammy palms tightened around the wooden handle of my hammer.
Screaming out orders like a boot camp drill sergeant, Kyle had us working together building a fierce defense. As the creatures lumbered over one by one, he simply pushed them back by digging his pole into their chest, and I reached out and cracked them on top of the skull when they were off balance. They were spread out enough for this to work for the first six that approached.
Kyle and I were slowly retreating backwards. The Hummer was much further away than I had felt comfortable with , and the engine was still running. We had let ourselves be pushed against the glass door of the filling station.
The more recently dead, like the postman and his th ree friends, were too fast, making our current tactics useless. When they came at us from both sides, I lost my balance and fell backward bouncing against the filling station wall, thrusting me towards the hard pavement with a crash that sent my hammer bouncing a few feet from my grasp.
Kyle stepped back, swinging his metal rod around over his head to create a diversion. For the most part, it worked; three of them went after him. However, the postman lunged on top of me. I reached up and grabbed his postal bag satchel; sliding the strap between his teeth as he came down at my face.
Rotting flesh reeked from his mouth as I was barely keeping him from chomping down. The stench alone was enough to make my fight falter. One of the other creatures, a large bastard dressed in overalls, left Kyle and jumped on top of the postman, climbing up over his shoulders.
With the breath knocked out of me, my eyes locked onto the hammer that was just out of my reach. Pinned to the ground, with these cold monsters clamoring to sink their teeth into my body, I needed to make my move. This wasn’t where I was going to die.
Letting go of the satchel strap, I let the postman drill his forehead into my shoulder. Rocking back and forth and with two big jerks, I was able to pivot my upper body just close enough to the wooden handle that would save my life.
I brought the hammer down on the postman first. He still had the strap stuck in his mouth,
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