Dead Soil: A Zombie Series by Alex Apostol Page A

there! The whites of her eyes were visible as her mouth split into a toothy grin. She broke out into a run, as if her life depended on it. Her feet made almost no sound as they barely touched the soft ground.
    Suddenly, all her exhaustion was gone.
    Suddenly, hope had been restored and she could breathe again.
    Suddenly, she wasn’t alone anymore.
    She slowed to a walk once she could make out the two figures in the dark. They both held flashlights and were approaching an abandoned park building. Anita had been there before. It was the visitor’s center. She used to watch the birds from the glass room while her dad read all the plaques on the walls.
    “Shh,” the fatter of the two men hissed as he whirled around and shined the flashlight in Anita’s direction, but she was concealed by a large, leafy bush where she crouched and observed.
    “I didn’t hear nothin’,” the other man said in his normal, slightly loud volume. “Let’s go already. I’m tired and I’d like to give this to my old lady.” He held something up for a quick second and then lowered it to his side again.
    It was too dark for Anita to see what it was that he held loosely in his hand—something round, like bowling ball.
    The two men turned towards the building again. The fat man reached out for the door while the taller, older man stood waiting to disappear inside. They were leaving.
    Anita’s breathing sped up. She had to make a decision. Sweat ran down her face. Was she going to approach them, maybe find shelter with them, or was she going to hide in the bushes like a wild animal and live alone for the rest of her short, miserable life?
    She stepped out from behind the bush and stood in the middle of the open trail.
    The two men whipped around at the sound of movement. They both had long knives gripped in their hands, raised and ready to stab whatever lacked the common sense to sneak up on them. “I told ya I heard somethin’,” the rotund man who held the door said with a sneer. He released his grip on the handle and let it shut slowly and softly behind him.
    “Please,” Anita begged. “I need somewhere to sleep.”
    The two men smirked at each other. They holstered their knives in the sheaths on their belts and walked toward Anita casually. As they approached, her heart pounded in her ears. The overweight man in overalls and a flannel shirt let out a low laugh through his crooked teeth.
    Anita wanted to run away, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t abandon the thought of civilization, of coexisting with other people. She needed them, no matter what they were like. What kind of life would she have without them? Even if they made her feel uncomfortable. She wouldn’t last long out there by herself.
    With the way they looked at her she expected them to flirt with her, kiss her, touch her, demand sex in exchange for shelter. She already had it made up in her mind that she would do whatever it took to receive shelter.
    She never saw the first punch coming.
    Once she was down on the ground, the two men kicked at her with no direction or precision. Anywhere their feet made contact was a win for them. Anita’s body demanded she cough and gasp for air, but every time she tried another foot found its way into her chest or kidneys. She felt like she was drowning as her mouth opened and closed fruitlessly.
    “I’ll take those, thank ya very much” The older of the two men said as he snatched Anita’s high heels from the ground next to her. He turned them over in his hand. “Mary Beth will love ‘em!” he said, his stained teeth the only part of his face visible from underneath his dirty, old baseball cap.
    “Let’s go,” his swollen hick friend said with a laugh. “Nightie night!” he called over his shoulder as he raised his hand and waved. “Sleep tight. Don’t let them dead fuckers bite.”
    They both laughed heartily together as they went inside.
    Finally able to take in any sort of breath with them gone, Anita pushed herself