told him, and replaced the towel on Mason’s chest. “I'm…I’m sorry. I really am.”
Andrew walked over to the bar where Emmett and Markley were still sitting.
“Can you get me a whiskey?” he asked.
“Um, sure doc,” Emmett responded.
Andrew turned to Markley. “ What happened, deputy?”
“It was awful. Some lunatics attacked the Miller's--, killed em'. I was just able to get away.”
“ No. I mean what happened to your shoulder?” Andrew said, pointing to his bloody shirt.
Markley looked down at his shoulder, just now remembering the injury. “Oh…that. One of them bastards bit me, before I could get a shot off. Just attacked me. Don't make no sense.”
Emm ett handed Andrew a whiskey just as a woman screamed outside the saloon.
The Gunman spun and ran back to the window, his revolver cocked and already in his hand. Several people ran down the street and disappeared around the next corner into darkness. More screams emanated from outside, followed by gunshots.
Pickett and the Gunman both stepped onto the boardwalk. At the end of the street several people lay dead in the dirt with undead already feasting on their corpses.
“ Get inside!” Pickett yelled at a few people standing in the street, pulling out his revolver.
The Gunman fired and an undead's head exploded on impact. He fired again and the bullet pierced another undead's eye socket. More undead appeared down the street, chasing after people and grabbing them with their decaying hands. One of the undead sunk his teeth deep into a woman’s thigh, another tore flesh from her neck, and yet another ripped into her stomach, pulling apart her skin and digging inside. She screamed in sheer agony as the three undead began to eat her alive, blood seeping into the dirt.
Pickett couldn’t believe his eyes. He fired as an undead approached . The bullet careened straight through its forehead and took it down instantly. “Jesus Christ,” he said as he fired again.
The Gunman let loose four more bullets and all of them met their targets, penetrating skulls, and painting the street with exploded brain. More townspeople were assaulted, and the undead numbers continued to swell as they turned into undead themselves, transforming before his eyes.
Across the street from the Gunman and Pickett , a woman and her son cowered behind some barrels, the undead horde getting closer to them every second. She held her child close and covered his eyes, trying to block him from seeing the carnage that surrounded them in the street.
The Gunman fired and stopped an undead from ripping the two apart. “Cover me,” he told the Sheriff as he fired again, taking down two more undead with a single shot, and then moved across the street. He continued to fire with precision, and three more undead fell to the ground, his revolvers now emptied. An undead woman heaved toward him as he paused in the middle of the street and reloaded without hesitation. It was an effortless task he completed in seconds, empty brass shells falling to his feet. The undead woman was nearly upon him and he fired and struck her through the forehead, and she fell only inches from him.
“ Hurry!” Pickett yelled at him.
U ndead continued to enter the street and they started to break through windows, and tear down makeshift barricades that had been hastily constructed, ripping into people that cowered in the dark.
The Gunman reached the opposite end of the street and grabbed the woman and the young boy. “Come with me,” he told them. He took the boy’s hand and threw him over his shoulder, and then grabbed the woman's arm and shuffled back across the street.
Pickett fired wildly from the other boardwalk and covered their escape. Several more townspeople ran down the street looking for shelter. “Into the saloon!” Pickett reloaded and waved them inside the Bucket of Blood. He fired again as more undead approached them, ready to kill. “Quickly!”
Everybody from the nearby street ran
Andrew walked over to the bar where Emmett and Markley were still sitting.
“Can you get me a whiskey?” he asked.
“Um, sure doc,” Emmett responded.
Andrew turned to Markley. “ What happened, deputy?”
“It was awful. Some lunatics attacked the Miller's--, killed em'. I was just able to get away.”
“ No. I mean what happened to your shoulder?” Andrew said, pointing to his bloody shirt.
Markley looked down at his shoulder, just now remembering the injury. “Oh…that. One of them bastards bit me, before I could get a shot off. Just attacked me. Don't make no sense.”
Emm ett handed Andrew a whiskey just as a woman screamed outside the saloon.
The Gunman spun and ran back to the window, his revolver cocked and already in his hand. Several people ran down the street and disappeared around the next corner into darkness. More screams emanated from outside, followed by gunshots.
Pickett and the Gunman both stepped onto the boardwalk. At the end of the street several people lay dead in the dirt with undead already feasting on their corpses.
“ Get inside!” Pickett yelled at a few people standing in the street, pulling out his revolver.
The Gunman fired and an undead's head exploded on impact. He fired again and the bullet pierced another undead's eye socket. More undead appeared down the street, chasing after people and grabbing them with their decaying hands. One of the undead sunk his teeth deep into a woman’s thigh, another tore flesh from her neck, and yet another ripped into her stomach, pulling apart her skin and digging inside. She screamed in sheer agony as the three undead began to eat her alive, blood seeping into the dirt.
Pickett couldn’t believe his eyes. He fired as an undead approached . The bullet careened straight through its forehead and took it down instantly. “Jesus Christ,” he said as he fired again.
The Gunman let loose four more bullets and all of them met their targets, penetrating skulls, and painting the street with exploded brain. More townspeople were assaulted, and the undead numbers continued to swell as they turned into undead themselves, transforming before his eyes.
Across the street from the Gunman and Pickett , a woman and her son cowered behind some barrels, the undead horde getting closer to them every second. She held her child close and covered his eyes, trying to block him from seeing the carnage that surrounded them in the street.
The Gunman fired and stopped an undead from ripping the two apart. “Cover me,” he told the Sheriff as he fired again, taking down two more undead with a single shot, and then moved across the street. He continued to fire with precision, and three more undead fell to the ground, his revolvers now emptied. An undead woman heaved toward him as he paused in the middle of the street and reloaded without hesitation. It was an effortless task he completed in seconds, empty brass shells falling to his feet. The undead woman was nearly upon him and he fired and struck her through the forehead, and she fell only inches from him.
“ Hurry!” Pickett yelled at him.
U ndead continued to enter the street and they started to break through windows, and tear down makeshift barricades that had been hastily constructed, ripping into people that cowered in the dark.
The Gunman reached the opposite end of the street and grabbed the woman and the young boy. “Come with me,” he told them. He took the boy’s hand and threw him over his shoulder, and then grabbed the woman's arm and shuffled back across the street.
Pickett fired wildly from the other boardwalk and covered their escape. Several more townspeople ran down the street looking for shelter. “Into the saloon!” Pickett reloaded and waved them inside the Bucket of Blood. He fired again as more undead approached them, ready to kill. “Quickly!”
Everybody from the nearby street ran
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