can feel my legs stiffening up and my hand shaking.
He lunges at me. His small hands produce a surprisingly tight grip on my shirt. His breath that smells like a dead animal hits me as he tries to take a bite out of my cheek. Somehow, I have enough of my wits to reach for the revolver and step back. My legs are still stiff. I trip over my feet and hit the ground. I look up at the once kind and gentle old man, now, face twisted with rage and drooling black rotted sludge. In my mind, I apologize. I pull the trigger to the revolver and send the poor old man's left eye out of the back of his skull. He tumbles back into another one of them and they both fall down.
"Holy shit."
I jump to my feet and look around at the horde surrounding me. There's more of them. One or two turned into fifty a hell of a lot faster than I thought. I look down at the old man, some part of me expecting to see him out for the count. He's already back up. Without thinking about it I scream a bit girlishly and start running in the direction with the least of those things. I spot a path and dart through it. Luckily, I push one of them over just right by ramming him with my shoulder and he stumbles into a couple others. They domino to my convenience. I try to stay hunkered down, which probably looks ridiculous when an untrained individual such as myself is doing so. A little old lady stumbles right into my path and reaches for my face. I wince my eyes closed and smack her in the face with the back end of the revolver as hard as I can. I peel my eyes open in time to watch her dentures pour out of her mouth along with a consistent flow of chunky brown fluid. Her face is cracked in the middle so every time she snaps at me her face splits a little. Her gelatinous black gums dangle and drip from her face. She chomps mindlessly at the air, stunned from the blow. Brown and dark red liquid gush from the wound. Grossed out, I push her to the side and run as fast as I can. I do my best to jump over her legs as I pass. The moans of the others are close and there are more of them waiting in the distance.
My heart is racing and my breaths are frequent but I'm still running. I'm still going. My hands are shaking but I pull up the gun and aim it at the head of a rather large guy running right at me. He lets out a beastly roar as he gets within reach. I pull the trigger and the gun kicks back. The side of his face comes off and his jaw hangs to the side. He gargles and falls over. I know he will be back up though. I push my aching legs to their limits. My feet clap loudly against the street. There's no time to be quiet. I know they have got to be right behind me. If they catch me. Oh God, if they catch me they will rip me into pieces. I'll have to experience the pain of being eaten and disemboweled alive. I push my legs a little harder, ignoring whatever pain and fatigue I feel. There is no time to feel.
For some reason a memory of being a young kid comes back to me. It was probably the last time I had to run this hard. This other kid at school tried to pick on me. The weird thing was he was a lot smaller than myself with dorky little premature dark mustache hairs. So, I warned him to back off. He didn't and I broke his nose. I'm not gonna lie it was on complete accident. Yes, I meant to punch him but I didn't know he would start bleeding everywhere like a damn action movie. The principal saw it fit to give me in school suspension, which wasn't the worst part. After school his five brothers were waiting for me. Typical coward can't get in a scuffle without calling your twelve brothers and thirty cousins, I thought to myself. I tried to walk around them but, of course, they surrounded me. Once the first guy started moving in I started flailing my fists in the direction of his face. These guys weren't little kids, though. They were several years older than me and my tiny blows weren't having the same effect they did on their younger brother. Once I caught
He lunges at me. His small hands produce a surprisingly tight grip on my shirt. His breath that smells like a dead animal hits me as he tries to take a bite out of my cheek. Somehow, I have enough of my wits to reach for the revolver and step back. My legs are still stiff. I trip over my feet and hit the ground. I look up at the once kind and gentle old man, now, face twisted with rage and drooling black rotted sludge. In my mind, I apologize. I pull the trigger to the revolver and send the poor old man's left eye out of the back of his skull. He tumbles back into another one of them and they both fall down.
"Holy shit."
I jump to my feet and look around at the horde surrounding me. There's more of them. One or two turned into fifty a hell of a lot faster than I thought. I look down at the old man, some part of me expecting to see him out for the count. He's already back up. Without thinking about it I scream a bit girlishly and start running in the direction with the least of those things. I spot a path and dart through it. Luckily, I push one of them over just right by ramming him with my shoulder and he stumbles into a couple others. They domino to my convenience. I try to stay hunkered down, which probably looks ridiculous when an untrained individual such as myself is doing so. A little old lady stumbles right into my path and reaches for my face. I wince my eyes closed and smack her in the face with the back end of the revolver as hard as I can. I peel my eyes open in time to watch her dentures pour out of her mouth along with a consistent flow of chunky brown fluid. Her face is cracked in the middle so every time she snaps at me her face splits a little. Her gelatinous black gums dangle and drip from her face. She chomps mindlessly at the air, stunned from the blow. Brown and dark red liquid gush from the wound. Grossed out, I push her to the side and run as fast as I can. I do my best to jump over her legs as I pass. The moans of the others are close and there are more of them waiting in the distance.
My heart is racing and my breaths are frequent but I'm still running. I'm still going. My hands are shaking but I pull up the gun and aim it at the head of a rather large guy running right at me. He lets out a beastly roar as he gets within reach. I pull the trigger and the gun kicks back. The side of his face comes off and his jaw hangs to the side. He gargles and falls over. I know he will be back up though. I push my aching legs to their limits. My feet clap loudly against the street. There's no time to be quiet. I know they have got to be right behind me. If they catch me. Oh God, if they catch me they will rip me into pieces. I'll have to experience the pain of being eaten and disemboweled alive. I push my legs a little harder, ignoring whatever pain and fatigue I feel. There is no time to feel.
For some reason a memory of being a young kid comes back to me. It was probably the last time I had to run this hard. This other kid at school tried to pick on me. The weird thing was he was a lot smaller than myself with dorky little premature dark mustache hairs. So, I warned him to back off. He didn't and I broke his nose. I'm not gonna lie it was on complete accident. Yes, I meant to punch him but I didn't know he would start bleeding everywhere like a damn action movie. The principal saw it fit to give me in school suspension, which wasn't the worst part. After school his five brothers were waiting for me. Typical coward can't get in a scuffle without calling your twelve brothers and thirty cousins, I thought to myself. I tried to walk around them but, of course, they surrounded me. Once the first guy started moving in I started flailing my fists in the direction of his face. These guys weren't little kids, though. They were several years older than me and my tiny blows weren't having the same effect they did on their younger brother. Once I caught
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