A blood curdling scream came from outside, just down the street, “What the Fuck was that?” Quickly getting up off the couch and moving his fat ass self to the window, peering through the curtains he couldn’t see a thing. He then went upstairs to the window up there. From this viewpoint he could see all the way up and down the street. But he wasn’t quite ready for what he saw. Another scream came blasting from this woman’s mouth, this time it sounded like it was going to break all the windows from the house.
Just like his coworker, a second scream was bellowed, but hers was cut off in a gurgling sound as the drunken man was biting into her throat. He then looked into the eyes of terror, as the man came up from his meal and to the door. The man's hands started to pound against the glass, leaving bloody prints all over it. He panicked and ran to the other door, flinging it open and making it to his truck. Within moments he was speeding out of the parking lot with now 2 shuffling persons falling behind in the rear view mirror.
“Shit” Tommy exclaimed, “This is not happening.” From his vantage point he could see two people in a car that was stuck to a light pole, apparently the driver felt it would make a good hood ornament. The car was the typical late model sedan, you know the kind that boasts about 25 mpg but only gets that brand new on the highway. Stupid car companies, when are they going to realize Ford had it right to begin with. The Model T got that, and it was 100 years ago.
His truck could never get that much, he would be lucky if he hit 20 mpg. Driving home that night was a wild ride. He could see that there were more of those shambling people walking the streets that night, with other people running from them. In the distance he could see the lights of fires, but nowhere in sight were there any sirens or trucks heading that way. Traffic was not the worse, but then again it wasn’t the best. Every half mile there would be vehicles crashed blocking the road and causing a backup. Each of these places were hectic, people running and screaming, and each time he had to drive around them or else get caught up in the craziness.
The car’s front end is mashed in, the rest is OK. The doors seem to be jammed because the two passengers are not running away, and running away would be the best thing that could possibly be done at this time. Right on cue, here comes one around the corner, shambling along in the ever familiar movement that the undead always seem to make. “Shit” Tommy says yet again, knowing all too well what was about to come, and knowing that deep down he couldn’t let it happen. “So this is why, huh god? Why I didn’t off myself, well you have a funny notion of the big plan, you know?”
He made his way home in record time that night. His neighborhood was quiet at that time, but the sounds of terror were coming from far away and closing in. With a few trips from his truck he closed up his house and hunkered down to wait it out. He grabbed his gun and sat on the couch, waiting and watching his clock.
The clock had only moved a fraction of the time that it felt. Again, time was not moving quite right, but at least this time on his side. Quickly Tommy to where his gun laid, all those times he yearned to put that stock in his mouth going through his mind. It was still sitting there, untouched since he moved it down here from storage in his closet. It was a nice gun, given to him by his grandfather, a 30-30 Marlin, it would sometimes jam and not everyone could shoot it accurately, but Tommy could. Having had enough practice with it to know where to aim for the error in the open sights. Really was a marvel, but given the chance could easily hit a target in the center at 50 yds, and that is all he really needed.
Heading towards the door he did notice one thing though, the scratching was gone, which meant that the one at the door had gone on towards the car, good news for him, bad news for them. His apartment, well really a duplex was blessed with a double set of doors with a porch in between them. This was a huge blessing, being able to block the porch door and then not worry about them getting in. All the windows in the house were close to 6 feet off the ground, Tommy could reach the bottom of the window with his head, and the only way up was the porch steps. Tommy had damaged them so that only one could stand on them at a time, but with no leverage to be able to get to the door, then with a table in front of the door it was easy enough to keep them out.
Now, after all that hard work to keep them out he was having a bitch of a time getting out the door himself. He could still hear the screaming, but it had gotten quieter and less frantic, maybe this woman had come to her senses, but it was too late now. Once one of them knew there was fresh meat, then all of them in the area knew about the fresh meat. Finally he was dancing his way down the steps and into his driveway. There sat his truck, not new but still a lot of kick left to it and a full tank of gas. It has 4 wheel drive and a big V8 engine, tow anything with this baby, course don’t really have to worry about that kind of thing anymore.
Out to the end of his driveway, he turned around the corner and was greeted with something both wonderful and horrifying at the same time. They had not gotten into the car yet, that is where the good news ended. Although there were only 3 on the car, there were many fast approaching. The term fast used loosely here. Stopping at the corner of his place, Tommy leaned up against the house for stability and aimed. Anyone who has ever read or seen a zombie movie knows to hit them in the head; it is the only way to kill them. In real life, it was a little bit different. Yes, a head shot would do it, but also dismantling them or destroying their bodies’ works, but a head shot is the quickest and easiest.