useless pretty soon. Up
ahead was a small neighborhood, though I guess it was just a street with a few
houses on it, not really a neighborhood like the subdivisions I was used to in Florida with a few hundred houses. There were only twelve houses here, and there were only
about seven or eight Infected in sight.
It
was slowing to a drizzle as I pulled off the side of the road, not wanting to
draw any unnecessary attention with such a loud car. I pulled my poncho back
over myself, and adjusted my hat. I swung the door of the car open and made for
the closest house, jogging toward what I hoped would be a relatively uneventful
evening and day ahead of me.
Chapter Seven: Bad Day
3:00
PM, July 1
I
was running as fast as I could, completely engulfed in darkness. She was right
in front of me, but every time I reached out for her she seemed to pull a
little further away. I tried to yell out to her, but my lips moved silently,
emitting no sound. She was being dragged away, and I couldn’t do anything about
it. My legs were on fire. I was pushing them past their limits just keeping up
with her dragging body. Her face was full of fear and her eyes were watered up
and glazed over, tears were pouring down her face.
She
was yelling to me. I could see her mouth wide, and the back of her throat
vibrating from the sound waves emitting out, but I couldn’t make out any actual
sound. All I could hear were the moans, the deep gasping groan that chilled you
deep inside. I tried my hardest to reach out to her again, but my finger tips
were mere millimeters away, and she was pulled out of sight.
“Sarah!”
I yelled out and leaped forward. I hit the ground hard, face first. My whole
body was shaking from all the adrenaline pumping through me. My clothes were
soaked in sweat. I looked around frantically, ascertaining my surroundings.
“It
was just a nightmare.” I thought out loud.
I
wiped my face and stood up. According to my watch, it was about three o’clock.
Light was beaming through the broken windows, shining around the entertainment
center I’d leaned against them to keep anything from getting in. I started my
pushups angry at myself for waking up so late.
After
finishing, I went to my backpack to get breakfast. As I opened the zipper, I
heard a loud crash. I instinctively grabbed my shotgun and ran to the front
door. The granola bar I was holding in my mouth hit the ground and broke in
half. The door had been smashed open, and the bookshelf I had leaned against it
had fallen over. Four of them were already inside the house, and Infected were
out the door as far as I could see, surrounding the red car I’d parked outside.
“Shit.”
I flipped the safety off my shotgun and fired at the closest one, missing his
head, but blowing his shoulder apart. His body fell into another Infected
behind him, knocking it over as I pumped the shotgun, ejecting a shell and
loading another into the chamber. I fired again, hitting the next Infected in
the neck, flinging his head off his shoulders.
More
came shuffling in, practically pouring in a sickening flow of bodies. I decided
to make my way back into the bedroom, not wanting to waste any more shells on a
losing battle. My heart was racing. There were several dozen in the room by the
time I made it back to the bedroom and slammed the door.
A
hand managed to reach through before it closed, making a sickening crunch as
the bones in the forearm snapped. I hit the hand with the butt of the shotgun
and tried to shut it again, but it was too late. Five or six more hands reached
through. More were just pounding the door. I leaned against it holding it
closed as best I could.
“Son
of a bitch!” I yelled out in frustration, my heart was racing about as fast as
my mind. I had to get out of here, and fast. The window was across the room,
but it was boarded up. The closet was no help. That would just trap me in a
worse place. My back pack was just out of reach, leaning
ahead was a small neighborhood, though I guess it was just a street with a few
houses on it, not really a neighborhood like the subdivisions I was used to in Florida with a few hundred houses. There were only twelve houses here, and there were only
about seven or eight Infected in sight.
It
was slowing to a drizzle as I pulled off the side of the road, not wanting to
draw any unnecessary attention with such a loud car. I pulled my poncho back
over myself, and adjusted my hat. I swung the door of the car open and made for
the closest house, jogging toward what I hoped would be a relatively uneventful
evening and day ahead of me.
Chapter Seven: Bad Day
3:00
PM, July 1
I
was running as fast as I could, completely engulfed in darkness. She was right
in front of me, but every time I reached out for her she seemed to pull a
little further away. I tried to yell out to her, but my lips moved silently,
emitting no sound. She was being dragged away, and I couldn’t do anything about
it. My legs were on fire. I was pushing them past their limits just keeping up
with her dragging body. Her face was full of fear and her eyes were watered up
and glazed over, tears were pouring down her face.
She
was yelling to me. I could see her mouth wide, and the back of her throat
vibrating from the sound waves emitting out, but I couldn’t make out any actual
sound. All I could hear were the moans, the deep gasping groan that chilled you
deep inside. I tried my hardest to reach out to her again, but my finger tips
were mere millimeters away, and she was pulled out of sight.
“Sarah!”
I yelled out and leaped forward. I hit the ground hard, face first. My whole
body was shaking from all the adrenaline pumping through me. My clothes were
soaked in sweat. I looked around frantically, ascertaining my surroundings.
“It
was just a nightmare.” I thought out loud.
I
wiped my face and stood up. According to my watch, it was about three o’clock.
Light was beaming through the broken windows, shining around the entertainment
center I’d leaned against them to keep anything from getting in. I started my
pushups angry at myself for waking up so late.
After
finishing, I went to my backpack to get breakfast. As I opened the zipper, I
heard a loud crash. I instinctively grabbed my shotgun and ran to the front
door. The granola bar I was holding in my mouth hit the ground and broke in
half. The door had been smashed open, and the bookshelf I had leaned against it
had fallen over. Four of them were already inside the house, and Infected were
out the door as far as I could see, surrounding the red car I’d parked outside.
“Shit.”
I flipped the safety off my shotgun and fired at the closest one, missing his
head, but blowing his shoulder apart. His body fell into another Infected
behind him, knocking it over as I pumped the shotgun, ejecting a shell and
loading another into the chamber. I fired again, hitting the next Infected in
the neck, flinging his head off his shoulders.
More
came shuffling in, practically pouring in a sickening flow of bodies. I decided
to make my way back into the bedroom, not wanting to waste any more shells on a
losing battle. My heart was racing. There were several dozen in the room by the
time I made it back to the bedroom and slammed the door.
A
hand managed to reach through before it closed, making a sickening crunch as
the bones in the forearm snapped. I hit the hand with the butt of the shotgun
and tried to shut it again, but it was too late. Five or six more hands reached
through. More were just pounding the door. I leaned against it holding it
closed as best I could.
“Son
of a bitch!” I yelled out in frustration, my heart was racing about as fast as
my mind. I had to get out of here, and fast. The window was across the room,
but it was boarded up. The closet was no help. That would just trap me in a
worse place. My back pack was just out of reach, leaning
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